I am a Dragon. I deserve respect.
Not Dragonsbane and knights.
It’s true that by human tradition,
I may lack human rights.
But worse than messing my bed of gold
Or fighting, talking, riddling
Even worse than the hard-to-chew nit
Who insisted on trying fiddling
Worse than robbers, worse than thieves
Or Adventurers—hands down
Are the ones who hear that I exist
And burn down their whole town.
“It lives!” he screams
(Some ragged Bard, trying to get his free drinks)
Screaming, crying, telling tales
Until everybody then thinks:
“The Dragon’s a menace to all
Our Hero is this Bard.
The Dragon threatens our fair land
The decision isn’t hard.
“If we but set our homes aflame
And shout loudest of all
Our leaders must do something
Or see all their villages fall.”
Now, here I am, in my lair
A thousand leagues away
No more likely to fly there
Tomorrow than today.
But I exist; or at least, I might
And that’s all that’s necessary
All the Bards do really need
Is an idea that’s scary.
I’ve gathered treasures. Artifacts
Beyond price or measure.
I’ve never thought the Greatest Lie
Would beat the Greatest Treasure.
But as I watch the strength of lies
Their value as sheer currency
I begin to wonder: “Ten thousand years
Have I wasted all of me?”
I’ve collected gold. Collected art.
Collected engineering.
Books, knowledge, inventions—
Not worth that much, I’m hearing?
A compelling tale, the Biggest Lie
It seems, can with a fifty-word line
Make you decide that you deserve yours
And also all of mine.
But Dragons are quite hard to fight.
And Knights do not prefer it.
To do your work, Kings are compelled
By Bards, who thus refer it:
“Tell them your village Dragon-burned;
It’s almost truth, I’m sure.
If you don’t burn it down yourself.
You’ve got…six weeks…no more.”
Are the Bards evil? So I doubt.
No candle held to Saurons.
Are they just fools? Well, some of them:
Many Bards are basic morons.
But free beer is free beer
And there’s some good hard cider
All Bards are good at this:
Opening their mouths wider.
So let them burn their villages
Let them be insane.
I’m sitting here and reading Proust;
They’re planting Dragonsbane.
Friend, dangers are real.
But this moral isn’t hard:
Consider trusting your own mind
Before you trust a Bard.”
