The dragons wrath

Under the moons sweet ghostly gaze, a diamond lake did froth.
And from the fathoms, fathoms deep, wrose a dragons wrath.

With scale blood red, and claw bleached white,
the dragon reared with godly might.

Setting fauna around it to blaze, and taking to inky black night,
it screeched its terrible agony, hoping for some small light.

Twisting solemnly through skies strewn with pink,
each liquid gold eye refusing to blink.

His quarry under yonder wave, he hung, and with no seen notion,
he stopped, let go, let himself fall, into the depths of the ocean.

He sank, did not stop it, he was perfectly still, as he saw what had cost him so much.
A dragon, a female, poisonous green, curled like a baby and looking as such.

When he had floated there, near the dragon, she was dead.
Though he knew it, he sank to rest against her cold head.

He checked her, he hit her, bequeathed her to rise,
She did not, the truth hit him... he thought no more lies.

And sinking his claws into the thick sand beneath him,
the dragon God came to rest, at the bottom of cold sea,
where the glacial waves slowly lapped mud over their jewel bright bodies,
and the light left his eyes. He was with his Goddess... at last.