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From the depths of darkness, a dragon was born,

Unleashed upon a world so forlorn.

Its wings spread wide, its scales aflame,

A creature of might, a creature of pain.

Oh, the birth of the dragon, a tale so grim,

Its unjust life, its fate so grim.

In the realm of shadows, it roamed alone,

Until its tragic end, on a blood-soaked throne.

In the cold, desolate land, it sought its place,

A being despised, marked by disgrace.

Rejected by the light, condemned to the night,

A creature feared, a symbol of fright.

Oh, the birth of the dragon, a tale so grim,

Its unjust life, its fate so grim.

In the realm of shadows, it roamed alone,

Until its tragic end, on a blood-soaked throne.

Its fire burned bright, consuming all in its wake,

But the world turned its back, for its heart was opaque.

Misunderstood, its tears turned to ash,

Bound by chains, in a world so harsh.

The dragon's spirit weakened, burdened by despair,

Its wings once majestic, now tattered and bare.

Battles fought, victories won, but at what cost?

In the depths of its soul, all hope was lost.

Oh, the birth of the dragon, a tale so grim,

Its unjust life, its fate so grim.

In the realm of shadows, it roamed alone,

Until its tragic end, on a blood-soaked throne.

And so it met its end, in a blaze of sorrow,

A tragic demise, a dark tomorrow.

But legends live on, in the echoes of time,

The tale of the dragon, forever sublime.