~.~

Murders and mysteries, magic and spells
A mind crafted with irons from hell.
He'll show you fifty ways to glorify a shoe
And give it wings and eyes, or throw it in a witch's brew.

None can know what thoughts swirl within
The fleshy, twisty crevices where new worlds begin.
He may lie, he may tell the truth for all you know
His mind is a lump of dark matter from whence words flow.

Don't you go crossing swords with a writer –
His pen is the sharpest, dialogue a biter;
Before you know, you'll be dead on his typewriter.

~.~