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hockey skates hyperbole seven lines non rhymin

Blades whisper across frozen lakes,  
etching stories in ice with daring grace.  
Sweat is a northern wind on bated breath,  
eyes clocking the puck's flight like million stars.  
In this arena, legends dance on sharp edges,  
each stride a thunder that shakes existence—  
victory, an epic told through a hockey mask's gaze.

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Blades whisper across frozen lakes, etching stories in ice with daring grace. Sweat is a northern wind on bated breath, eyes clocking the puck's flight like million stars. In this arena, legends dance on sharp edges, each stride a thunder that shakes existence— victory, an epic told through a hockey mask's gaze.

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