for those who are the "no.1" fans From the lightning-bolt thief to the doors of the Pit, With a pen made of bronze and a hero's quick wit. Five years of a struggle, ten beads on a string, Through the wrath of a Titan and a ghost-king’s sting. The Oracle’s voice is a green, swirling smoke, As the foundations of Olympus nearly broke. We’ve marched through the Labyrinth’s shifting, dark maze, And stood on the ridge while the city’s ablaze. It’s the bridge at Manhattan, the salt on the skin, The choice of a soul where the endings begin. Not a tragedy written in stars or in stone, But a family found when you’re standing alone.
I got it from @VioletBlossoms17 when she made the Percy Jackson memes and decided to do that for a poem
