Death's Lair

The acrid smell of smoke

Burns in his nose

The air is heavy with death

As he climbs the mountain slope

And then, right before him,

Gapes the foreboding black hole,

An invitation to come in

And meat his death.

The dirt below him crunches

As he walks up to the cave,

His heart beats faster

With each careful step.

Then, suddenly, looming above him,

A monstrous creature,

Scales, like glassy, bright stars,

Glinting in the firelight

Its breath of fire

Rattling the walls of the cave

He unsheathes his lustrous blade,

Armor shining,

He points it at the scaly throat

His cry echoes on the walls

As he lunges at the beast

It rears up, roars, and strikes,

Causing him to hesitate in shock

He turns on his heals,

With a taste of fear,

Toward the mouth of the cave.

The creature lies down

And waits for another meal

With the smell of acrid smoke.