They will light fires,
All over time,
They’ve been around forever,
But they’re in their prime.
Their bronze hides protect them,
From any natural thing,
Their ripples are the muses,
For the songs the crickets sing.

Zapping across
The dimensional blockade,
Zipping around
Through all of time and space.
If you should ever lay eyes
On the bronze dragonflight,
You’ll know that to see them
Is an optical delight;

Their hides take a different hue when you change your angle,
Their intricately carved claws are made to mangle,
Their fire burns through all of the spectrum of light,
But then they’ll be gone in the blink of your mortal eye.

But a greater prospect than their glorious hides
Is to be taken along for the ride.
To feel your body burning and reforming,
But then there’s always the deadliest warning.

The position you’re in is always quite likely to flip,
Just because they took you, don’t count on a return trip,
I’d recommend keeping a very tight grip;
I’ve waited ten thousand years ’cause they gave me the slip.