They danced into fury,

with twists, and twirls, and the

glint of their silver, the fires of their eyes.

The footing and timing perfect,

they chased, and they followed,

they danced around the floor.

Their wrists fluently moving,

the silver shining in the sun,

they danced with sharpness and

precision around the floor,

kicking up dust,

the crowd lifted into an uproar.

So amused were they as

they danced around the floor.

Anger and passion unleashed in such elegance,

a sight unseen.

They danced with purpose and intent,

they danced closer,

till light could not be seen between them.

They danced far,

they tossed each other across the floor.

Breaking a sweat, after an hour of dancing

they continued until dusk.

Such passion and intent failed to relent until,

one swift, and sudden move,

ended the dance, the shining silver,

ran red,

and one was left to dance another day.

Never before had such a thing been witnessed,

never again should it be, Cries lifted from the spectators.

“Pelagius! Pelagius! Pelagius!” they cried, they cheered.

They threw petals of rose at him, and softly they fell,

and staggered did he with sweat covered feat,

away from the floor, into history.