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January 16, 2012

The Hardy Tale of Blackules (Book 1)




And thus without a moment’s regret
Did that brave warrior, his passion whet
As he stood on the summit of Mount Doomfire
Doubtless he had earned the God Dragon’s ire

For in a headlock, he held the beast
With the sincere aim of making a feast
Of draconic meat and serpentine bone
And fashion his skull into a rugged throne.

The beast did swing his sword edged tail
But what came next was an inhuman wail;
With but a yawn and a flick of his wrist
The warrior tore it free -- in one quick twist!


Heaven’s drake roared and struck
But the warrior would speak -- “No luck!”
The dragon, heedless, struck with fangs
But quickly met with wretched pangs.

Such pain it felt! Such disrespect!
His teeth shattered ‘gainst that man’s pecs!
With but a flex, the warrior fired
Each fang at his foe.  He’d best retire!

The God Dragon, bloody and bested
Thought it best to leave luck untested.
Flap hard he did, for clouds above
But quite aware of the warrior’s glove.

“Heed me, dragon!” the man did boast
In a voice that shook the distant coast.
“You have fought Blackules and lost!
Run if you will -- at honor’s cost!”

The God Dragon growled, and ran in spite
Of the warning -- due to the might
Of Blackules, with bald, brown head
And beard so thick it splayed gods dead.

His muscles shone, and glimmered in light
Of the three moons of endless night
His thumping heart, so noble and pure
Beat storms into the sky, for sure.

“Dragon!” he yelled, stepping forth.
“Now, I shall prove my worth!
You deities who withhold the sun
Ensuring mortals’ age is done

I stand unarmed, with will of fire
As lord of all hope and desire
Beware!  Before this fight is through
I’ll bring sunrise -- a dawn anew!”

No more words could pause their battle;
Blackules roared; the sky did rattle
As he leapt from the peak, and from his calf
His strength burst and ripped the mountain in half!

He punched through the dragon to claim victory
But he knew, in a flash, that this range would be
The site of a skirmish -- nay, a horrible war
And with fists alone he would even the score.

Beast after beast came from on high
A sign of the end; man’s judgment was nigh!
By the dozens they fell, of myriad size
Raging and roaring before his eyes.


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