Maddened Cries

Huge wings of velvet soar above,
Carrying a body with the elegance of a Dove,
Her teeth and talons are a flash of gleaming white,
Even in the dead of night,

Horns sharper than Woodpecker’s beak,
Scales, glittering black with mystique,
Soaring over thatched roofs high,
Arrows pass her bulk, but nigh,

She releases an eruption of flame,
Hitting each archer with deadly aim,
After burning the village to the ground,
she leaves the site without a sound,

Perching on a ledge every moon,
In her madness she would croon,
With a twinkle of lunacy in each eye,
She barks a laughing, maddened cry.