If I could, I would embark with a lark into a lush, green, growing wood. And if I should, that I would, travel with a hood, as it rains, I’d take the reins, should it prove to be a bumpy trail. And without fail, mine own journey shall do entail, to quest ever onwards, through rain or hail. So, if I might, take on the night, I’d come across a river flowing. Perhaps, without knowing, I would exclaim, “Oh! What a sight, I’d say, but, to my dismay, the boat was on the other side. Then, all in a dither, I would call hither the Moon to turn the tide, so, gleefully, I would slither to the raft, and spring across as willfully as I could tither.

Next, in my vision, with such profound precision, came a lass, keen on making a decision. Left or right, to her own delight, she asked me, crass. Then, slipped and fell, and exposed her… ankle. She jumped up to yell, but the forest was no longer swell. Oh well! She scurried over the rocks, and asked, was I the one who knocks? I looked above for my reply, and saw only hawks. I turned back to her, and saw only clocks. Yes, clocks! I hastened to go, and looked to the sky once more, and ho! There it was. Snow. Yes, snow! The river running had frozen, and I, being cunning, leapt with a flourish, and landed on the brook. Then, spying through a nook, I saw, not, but a hook! So, trying, as I slid, I recovered the hook that was hid.

Alas! I saw, in the hole, the hook had a soul. Yes, a soul! Furthermore, as I explored the cleft, I saw, to my left, a board. No, a sword! It was of great lore, and I knew I must use it, not abuse it, to recover the fabled great dragon’s hoard! Oh! The stories do tell, of a beast most fell, who guarded a lair that rivaled the gates of hell. My plan devised, I let rise, the sword of old, that should turn the tide. The shimmering hilt was crafted most cunningly of a material most unknown, and, dauntlessly topped, with a crosspiece that shone with a bold, dazzling steel. The glistening blade, wrought with flawless gold, tales had aforesaid, of a feel most untold.

As I set out, I primed myself for the bout. My armor was stout, and my arrival was most well timed. There was no doorbell to ring with a chime. So! I happened upon the cache I sought to seek out, and alas! The dragon was nowhere about. So I looked. And, with a shout, I spotted a most remarkable gemstone that shone with a light that rivaled no other. Had I known what I retrieved, I would’ve taken heed, and hastened to my steed, and bore away form that place, without making a dragon bleed. In actuality, I kept on, seeking the dragon’s and my own need.

I searched near and far, and fear gripped my heart. At last, I could hear, the slow, deep, rhythmic, breathing, of an enormous creature. Listening to my ear, I crept forward, brandishing my blade, with a leer. The Dragon leapt up, with a maw fiercer than a lion’s paw, and awake! I tried to fake, a move, most clever, but the dragon had foresaw! I looked, desperate not to be cooked, wildly about me, and saw a lever! Never would the dragon want me near it. I speedily dashed towards it, seeking an end, but the dragon pressed me, and I was forced to defend. I drew forth my hook, and rushed the dragon on high. I jumped, and plunged both my sword and hook deep into its eye. With a screech, it was falling, and falling fast! I pulled the lever, and saw that it had breathed its last. I dashed back to the treasure hoard, grabbed all that I could, and made to fly from the halls that had proven cold. I scampered back to the forest, hampered by all of the deceased dragon’s gold, now a token of my most recent venture into the fold.

Looking back, I see it is a tale well told, that comes to a most fortunate end. Our hero was done with dragons and fire, and refused to seek after treasures that were of defend by beasts of such dire. Some may call him a liar, but, alas! He will tire, and say again the quest that was brought about by such a desire.