Soaring high above the clouds
Weaving in and out,
A silver dragon lifts his head
And lets a cry resound.
The people of the city below
Tremble at the sound,
Fearing that any moment,
The beast will burn them down.
The dragon, though, has different orders,
He was not sent to kill.
He is a silver sentinel,
A guard against the world.

He lets forth a fiery blast,
Meant to reassure,
But the city sees a different sign,
They think they’re going to burn.
An archer climbs the city wall
He aims his arrow high,
And when released, it flies too true
And pierces the silver sky.
Tumbling, wheeling, the dragon starts to fall
And crashes in the forest, next to the city wall.

The silver dragon will fly no more,
The city will not stand.
It has lost its silver sentinel,
Has lost its saving hand.