True to the theme of this poem, a 10-minute timer was put to use. Thus, it seems a bit crude and sharp, but then again so it is. Divine the metaphors! (oh, also I put it into iambic tetrameter in the last 30 seconds because that is what it seemed to implore)
Compressed against the earthly fists,
The terra-force a terror true,
Two twin tide wreakers: rhythm shared,
The strength of air from blue to blue.
The chanting eyes, the staring words,
A can-like mirror, "cannot" fears,
A doubting shard within bests swords,
And too uncertain certains seers.
From higher hues to younger reds,
The hands from straight to right to none,
And empty lines to empty sheets,
The sea alight, the boulder spun.
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