With the success of my last poem, I decided to try my will at crafting and spinning another tale. This one is deeper and more sincere than the last.
Placidly We Go
To satisfy an angry beast,
A dragon, who's always hungry,
One must slave to build a feast,
And quiet all notions, angry.
We must submit,
And do as w're told,
To be silent and sit,
And take on the cold.
To anger the dragon is very unwise,
For he who does always dies.
The dragon's short-tempered, and doesn't think straight,
He's ornery and tired, and feel only hate.
There's no pleasing him, for those who try,
Their chances are slim, and their end, nigh.
He sees only the darkness between the night stars,
And hates the sneetches with stars upon thars.
Someone must stand against him, but who?
They'd surely lose, and be seen as a fool!
So in this wake there isn't a win,
To survive is the only truth that lies within.
To beat our foe?
Placidly, we must go.