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Avingnon-word-bubble
{ Slay —— Avin
The name of this poem is "Thieves: A Dragon, A Girl, and A Knight" it has a PG-13 rating. The poem is also not dedicated to anyone, and criticism is allowed.
21:45, February 15, 2015 (UTC)
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No-one is allowed to copy from this, you may use the ideas that you may receive from reading this. If you wish to use part of this poem in a story or for anything else on the wiki, politely ask me before you copy the poem.

Scales cut into scalene shales.
A girl kept behind a shanty veil.
Teeth to consider.
With the jaws and claws to render.
A tail for a fender.
A king will bequest the men tougher.
A simple challenge to select the best.
The one to win merely completes the quest.
Off to joruney across the land.
A donkey for a steed.
A sword in hand.
The lung quester ready to do his mighty deed.
Through the woods and over the lands.
Where mere nights become shadowy last stands.
The girl up in the keep.
Her only companion a golden fleeced sheep.
Her thoughts of a night grand.
The dragon pompously wrought defeat on band after band.
Fist over claw, and tooth over sword.
How hight the knight holds his reward.
To plunge forward.
When his blade drives through the mighty skull.
His senses will ever be dulled.
His humility dead, and his pride shown full.
The girl from her chamber be pulled.
To her, He lulled.
His mind dredged and her body used.
A trip to the king's land.
Only to find no rings for a young knight's hand.
To him she showed endowed love.
He who cursed the beings above.
There flew a dove.
Save that it called a sound.
To the table long and round.
The knight well forgotten.
The girl's mind and heart now rotten.
The king barely clothed in cotton.
He wonders was it time well spent?
That he should pay an ungrateful rent.
The king with mind bend,
His daughter's hand now lent.
The dove calls again, the sound of matrimony.
The knight, hungered and bony.
Repayed y whom he cursed.
The girl well versed. Would be the first to tell.
Of a knight that went through hell
Only to be thrown away.
For him the bells of death toll and on rusted hills they roll.
How she hated this day...
He falls down and blood trickles from a small wound.
His coin purse unbound.
With the thieves it can all be found.......

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