From crackling magma he arose, a phoenix forged anew,
Arsox, the dragon, wings ablaze, bathed in volcanic hue.
With molten scales and fiery breath, he carves the skies unseen,
A lord of embers, soaring high, where mortals dare not glean.
His gaze, a burning ember bright, pierces the smoke-filled air,
Seeking foes to test his might, with challenges to dare.
His claws, like daggers forged in flames, rend metal, stone, and bone,
A fearsome warrior, untamed, his power all his own.
Yet beneath the fiery wrath, a flicker of warmth resides,
A loyalty fierce and true, for those who stand by his side.
He guards his den with jealous fire, a haven made of ash,
For those he deems worthy of his trust, a bond that time won’t dash.
So let the tremors shake the earth, and lava rivers flow,
Arsox ascendant, wings unfurled, a fiery, vibrant show.
He paints the heavens with his might, a dance of flame and grace,
A legend etched in smoke and ash, a dragon’s soaring space.