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Shield of Achilles
I got my features and true form from
The hands of the craftsman from Olympus.
My body consisted of a perfect bliss as well
As dark small sparkles and a bright yellow sun,
Which is a movie when spun,
Like a recorder during Christmas.
The strong Achilles gave me a kiss,
For I knew the battle is to be won.
I am brave as we head to Troy.
My ambitious master whips out his sword,
Which scrapes and dings out of
The scabbard to face the lord
Called Hektor who is to be destroyed.
I blink and sync with Greece with no one doubt.
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The Illiad inspired me to write this poem. I enjoyed reading about the descriptive detail of the shield crafted by Hephaestus.