A mysterious and magical
cretaure, comes to us in dreams
and stories always eluding us.
Breating elegant and majestic
fire that will incinerate anything
in it's destructive path.
Scales that shine like they were
the essence of the stars.
More blue than the sky,
more red than blood,
and blacker than the darkest night.
Dragons will always be in our dreams
told in countless stories and will be
real to those who believe that they
want to believe.
My first poem please tell me how horrible it is. If it's bad I'm never doing poems again. If it's good I'll still probably won't do one again unless forced to.
