Dragon Poem by G J Salgado

To what do I honor this particular occasion?
Maybe it was your faithfully unusual persuasion.
I studied your oddly steadfast wickedness,
As I sat and watched you in the darkness.
Biting my nails in nervousness of what I saw,
Thumping of hoofs and every scratching paw.
However was it possible that I found myself here,
Trapped in the dungeons of your sacred lair.
Not even baby's breath could save me now,
Unsure of the intent of your vendettas vow.
Speaking in tongues of rage I heard you speak,
These were not to be confused with the words of the weak.
But your weakness is thin in that of what you first perceived,
The fallen have found you and now you claim only the conceived.
Looks as though you have been punished by your very own poison,
Seeping from the caves that feed you in the tortured dungeon.