Lyzzyss, the Sky Dragon

Lo, His white and teal brilliance,

whose flight is effortless and mute;

toothless jaw of dissilience,

blind feet catch upon his roots.

The whole of the fraction -

enact abreaction.

He is white cheddar, vanilla,

and fresh honey-mustard, too.

A dewy frost on papilla,

the forest from which he flew.

To swallow Him is Death,

he'll swallow you, instead.

You'll sweat his scales, from pit to palm,

and behold his secret paths -

and maps you'd walked, all along;

as a tender, moon-eyed calf.

With his tail's gentle waves,

true-sight of noon-light fades.