[ Hunk was... not a poet. But Monika put this together and she was his friend and he wanted to support her, so he set all that aside. He'd spent days with books from Arito's libraries, trying to figure out what he was doing. Poetry was a lot more complicated than talking about food.

Even now he was still freaking out on the inside. What if he makes a poetic faux pas? These people all probably know what they're doing, so he's gotta try to play it cool, but still... ]

I'm kinda new to this, so let me know if there's something that didn't work! It was actually pretty fun once I got started...

[ The page looks pristine, like he used an entire notebook to scribble out all of his initial drafts and changes, and hand-wrote the final version on another sheet. ]

The Heat ＿〆(･ω･。)

The trigger clicks, the empty blackness swarmed with heat.
Then the moons break, their riches seeping into the void.
A blazing sword begins to cut, and those riches are destroyed.

Each swing finds stone and slag, knocked away to a beat.
Pow, the cannon shouts, filling space with matter shining gold.
The battle's end is close at hand, just like times of old.

One final strike and finally, victory's complete.
It's time to lick my wounds, to clean house.
But the heat is intense, one I can't douse.

So now it's time to move on, or it all could repeat.
To my castle I flee, victorious like the kings.
To catch my breath, and see what else today brings.

Another day, another struggle, another new friend to meet.
Again I leave, ready to fight with all my brawn,
but then I think- did I leave the stove on?

[ And then he looks expectantly at his poem-sharing partner. ]