The assignment was to write a poem about "an event that transpired over a table". This is my take on that.
The dragon sighed fire
as iron swords and sabers
made fright take hold and him take flight.
His life in danger; he fleed from the steel
into the night a lit with bristling flame
and fiery spit.
We cheered and mocked the runaway
as we stayed awake only running on coffee
and the desire to play our stupid tabletop game.
Fighting grey elves and shadowy forms,
we burned time in ashtrays until morning.
In that moment when tomorrow becomes today,
our cliche fantasy tales of honor and glory
faded away into yesterday,
as silly memories of long-haired death metal friendships
and dragon slayings.