With leathery wings and a jaded tongue,
Lucentra takes flight,
Her scales glistening magenta and cerulean,
In the quickly fading sunset.
The queen of dragons,
The conquer of all beasts,
The vanquisher of mankind,
Has risen from her earthen tomb.
Tongues of flame dance,
Between her razor-sharp fangs,
Flickering with deadly grace,
A hypnotic power display.
Deathly screams rise from her throat,
Echoes of victims from milleniums past,
Trapped in her fiery prison,
Writhing in agony for eternity and beyond.
Laughter bubbles between her lips,
Poisoned with hatred,
For the race of man,
Who locked her away beneath the Argile crypt.
Her claws clench at the memory,
Drawing rivulets of steaming blood,
That scintillate scarlet and crimson,
The color of destruction.
A wail pierces Lucentra’s lips,
As a whirlwind of fire bursts forth,
Bathing the world of man in hellish flames,
A punishment long overdue.