The Dragon

He licks the Yellow custard
From the dead dog's eye.
He feeds upon the maggots
that in its stomach lie.
He breaths a cursed fire
that scorches mans desire
And crushes little children 'til they cry.

His jaws are dripping wet
With the slime of mortal sin.
He acknowledges the world
through a black toothed grin.
The slime is dripping down
Upon the hallow ground
And the smell of death to cover where he's been

His eyes like glassy beads
Stare through the soul of man.
And see their lives in destitution
As only evil can.
He has the smell of death
Upon his rancid breath
This has been his way since time began.

~ © Martin P.R. Jordan a.k.a The Wizard

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