Mama told me stories, tucked in tight in bed,
Of dragons bright and fiery, dancing in my head.
Not scary, clawing monsters, no, not like that at all,
But friends with scales of wonder, ready to stand tall.
She told of Night Furies, swift as shadows glide,
With eyes like emerald lightning, nowhere to hide.
Like Toothless, loyal, brave, and full of goofy glee,
The rarest, kindest dragon, wild and always free.
Then came the Monstrous Nightmare, burning in the night,
Whose fiery scales could ignite, a spectacular, bright light.
Mama said they’re proud and bold, with tempers quick to flare,
But train them with respect and trust, and loyalty they'll share.
The Deadly Nadder, beautiful and bold,
With spines like daggers, stories to be told.
They shoot their stinging spikes out, fast and sharp and true,
A graceful, winged guardian, strong and loyal too.
She whispered of the Gronckle, heavy, round, and stout,
Whose molten lava spit could melt a castle out!
But underneath the armor, a gentle heart resides,
Content to munch on pebbles, where peace and quiet hides.
The Hideous Zippleback, a strange and funny pair,
Two heads that argue constantly, filling up the air!
One breathes the gas, the other sparks the deadly flame,
A chaotic, double dragon, shouting out its name.
The Timberjack, with wings of sharpened wood,
Could slice through mighty forests, misunderstood.
Mama said they’re shy and swift, avoiding prying eyes,
But peaceful creatures, living underneath the skies.
The Scauldron, oh, the Scauldron, dwelling in the deep,
Whose boiling water blasts can put your foes to sleep!
They need the ocean’s salty kiss to keep their skin alive,
And feast on fishy treasures, just to keep them thriving.
The Whispering Death, a tunnel-digging fright,
With rows of razor teeth, it feasts upon the night.
They travel underground unseen, a rumbling, grinding sound,
Until they burst from earth and leave destruction all around!
The Changewing, sneaky dragon, blending in so well,
Mimicking colors, stories Mama loved to tell.
Camouflaged in forests green, or rocks of dusty brown,
A master of disguise, all over Berk town.
The Stormcutter, majestic, soaring through the air,
With four impressive wings, beyond compare.
They twist and turn in graceful flight, a truly stunning sight,
A noble, powerful dragon, bathing in the light.
The Skrill, a lightning dragon, crackling with the storm,
Their frozen prison melted, to keep them safe and warm.
They channel static energy, a terrifying might,
And strike with bolts of lightning, a truly awesome sight.
The Snow Wraith, hidden in the snow, so white and sleek,
Their piercing gaze can find you, even when you sneak.
They burrow deep in icy drifts, a frosty, silent threat,
Protecting snowy landscapes, that no one will forget.
The Armorwing, collecting metal scraps, so strong and bright,
To build a protective armor, shimmering in the light.
They decorate themselves with care, a truly unique display,
A shining, armored guardian, protecting all the way.
The Grapple Grounder, digging deep within the ground,
With powerful claws and jaws that leave no stone around.
They build their tunnels carefully, a hidden, secret maze,
And snatch their prey from underneath, in so many different ways.
And then the Bewilderbeast, so massive and so grand,
A titan of the dragons, ruler of the land.
It breathes out sheets of ice and snow, a frozen, chilling blast,
A leader of its dragon kin, a legend meant to last.
Mama’s stories ended, with a gentle, sleepy sigh,
Of dragons brave and gentle, soaring through the sky.
I dream of Berk and dragons, friendship’s shining gleam,
And hope that someday, I will find them in my dream.
