The Dragon

The knight slumped against the moist wall of the cavern and opened his visor.  His ears were still ringing from the deafening crash of the entrance caving in behind him.  His torch weakly sputtered in the now stagnant air.  “What foul luck!” he said to himself.  Then he laughed a little as from somewhere in a long-forgotten part of his mind came to him a doggerel that his mother used to sing to him:

In a far green valley, there was a dark cave

Nestled by a still river that nary a wave

Disturbed the clear surface except when a brave

Soul tried to enter the shadowed enclave

To seek a mythical treasure with magic engraved

But unbeknownst to the knight, explorer, and knave

The treasure was false for a cunning dragon did crave

An easier meal than town baiting depraved

Stalactites and ‘mites sharper than glaives

Was his mouth at the entrance and no one could save

The adventurous fools whose hearts ne’er misgave

Till the light was cut off and they in fire were laved

 

The knight came back from his reverie feeling a growing warmth and sweat from his forehead running into his eyes.  As he struggled out of his armor the heat continued to intensify and there came a smell of sulfur. 

“No f-n way.” Said the knight.

Then he died.