If the Bard played Fortnite

What would it be like if Shakespeare played Fortnite?

In Fortnite’s fields, where mortal players strive,
A tale I weave, in iambs five by five,
Of valiant souls who chase the crown’s bright gleam,
Where circuits hum to craft a warrior’s dream.


Upon the Battle Bus, aloft they soar,
O’er island vast, where fates of war are swore.
In Tilted Towers, arms and treasures lie,
As storm’s dread eye doth shrink the azure sky.


A gallant youth, with keyboard as their quill,
Doth build and fight with deft and cunning skill.
‘Gainst rogues and knaves, their shotgun sings of might,
Each ramp and wall a bulwark in the fight.


Yet hark! The foe, with sniper’s cruel decree,
Doth seek to end this hero’s jubilee.
But lo, with dance of fingers, swift and sure,
They fell their foes, their victory secure.


The storm contracts, one soul alone remains,
The Victory Crown, their rightful spoil and gain.
O Fortnite, stage where mortal hearts aspire,
Thy pixel’d glory sets the soul afire.


In Epic’s code, this tale of triumph sings,
Where players rise on Battle Royale’s wings.
From dusty bytes to laurels ever bright,
A champion’s name ascends the starry night.