With scales like storm clouds, wings that pierce the sky,
Jetragon descends, where thunderbolts can fly.
No gentle glider, soaring on gentle breeze,
But storm’s embodiment, riding thunderous seas.
Through lightning-scarred peaks, it dives with fearsome grace,
Leaving trails of ozone, etched upon its face.
Its eyes, like burning embers, flash with ancient rage,
A testament to battles, fought from cage to cage.
But beneath the power, a spirit wild and free,
Dancing with thunder, a symphony to see.
For Jetragon remembers, the ancient wind’s decree,
To balance nature’s fury, with serenity.
So approach with caution, near the lightning’s crack,
Respect the tempest, the storm’s fierce attack.
Offer not control, but empathy’s embrace,
Acknowledge the fury, etched upon its face.
Then, in the dance of lightning’s fleeting spark,
Jetragon’s rage unveils its hidden ark.
It shares the secrets, of the storm’s wild grace,
Guiding you through danger, to a calmer space.
And as the clouds disperse, and sunlight paints the land,
Jetragon soars onward, a whisper in the sand.
But in your heart, its power will remain,
A reminder of balance, etched in wind and rain.
So raise your gaze, when thunderclouds unfold,
Let Jetragon’s spirit, make your courage bold.
For in the depths of storms, where lightning brightly flies,
A spark of harmony, forever in your eyes.