Twas a dank dark night out in fair Ashtan's streets
The guards were patrolling, covering their beat
But as they neared the harbour, passing Fire and Spice
They suddenly stopped, frozen, shivering with fright

For from the bowels of the city a roar roared and rumbled
The sound was immense, loud, sharp and tumbled
Agony, pain, torment, and, even worse -
The roar then died down and became shouts...in verse

"Oh, WOE WOE WOE!" the yelling began
"Oh, NO NO NO!" echoed 'cross the land
The poor guards edged slightly closer towards all the noise
Brave! - since it echoed Zsarachnor, deprived of his toys

"MAKE SOME MORE MORE MORE!" the shouting went on
As the city itself shook from the shouter's vast brawn
Louder and louder, approaching the guards
The shouting now accompanied by stomps quite hard

Quailing and quavering, the guards huddled in close
Whatever was approaching was worst than a ghost!
And then, oh then, round the corner it came
Twas Finkle, the Dragon, yes him, that's his name

"I ADORE ADORE ADORE..." the yells then said
And the poor guards shuddered - soon they'd be dead
For a Dragon approached, and he looked quite irate
Any none of them fancied being a fat piece of bait

"Please!" they pleaded. "What do you want?!" they moaned
"MORE MORE MORE!" was all the huge Dragon would groan
So more they gave him, of all that they had
Gold and herbs, comms and coin, but that just made him mad

"NO NO NO!" the great Finkle scolded them then
"WANT WANT WANT!" he insisted, his tone filled with yen
"WHAT WHAT WHAT?!" the poor guards cried back in dread
"BAKERS IS CLOSED!" the Dragon shouted. "I. NEED. BREAD!"

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Chronos, in the year 711 AF.