Dancers in the Press


Friction fires flare and flit, where phalanx finds the foe.
Singing shields strike serenades, to spears, for love to show. 
Pressed to petty pirouettes, are peasant, prince, and thrall;
Devout dancers bellow doom, to drums, answer the call. 

  • Author: Quemis (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 14th, 2023 20:30
  • Comment from author about the poem: Wrote this for a 4 line poetry contest put on by a video game I play called Conquerors Blade
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 17
  • User favorite of this poem: Mason Vollman.
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  • Mason Vollman

    Very Tongue Twisting. =)

    • Quemis

      Thanks! Alliteration is fun! 🙂

      • Mason Vollman

        It Sure Is! 😉

      • Parisab

        Great wordplay worthy of a cool video game…

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