Don't tell me the dragon's been vanquished,
surely he has more fight in him!
I would have guessed
he'd shoot me another riddle,
make me run in circles
wondering who would die first;
I would have thought that
I'd spend my whole life
with a sword in hand,
chasing after him.

Is it true?
Has he fallen off his plateau, his crevice
crumbled before him?
That brute lizard finally gave up?

What's left behind him,
I'd try to see and delve into his caves
searching for clues if I believed it,
but something makes me think that
just because he's dead to me,
doesn't mean he's been vanquished.

Don't tell me the dragon's been vanquished,
it's surely not that easy!
I had thought that maybe,
he wouldn't give up his bed of lies,
tossing and turning,
his chest bellowing with flames and smoke,
I expected a temper tantrum or
roaring deceit, screaming acid and blood,
and I imagined my sword
falling to his feet.