Trickster of the spinning wheel,
Enters my effulgent domain to ratify a deal,Upon ancient grounds he bows, accompanied by a sly grin, The evil in his eyes reflecting a lifetime of un-repented sin,He intends to entomb me in filth,Amongst his artifice I fear my kingdom shall wilt,I feel a harrowing ambience amongst his presence,The aura of precipice weighs down on me with much excrescence,His soul reflects a red eyed demon of fire,The urgency for him to vacate my throne room is becoming dire,He narrows his crimson eyes and smiles wide with rotting yellow teeth,I shook at the intention beyond; the intention beneath,"Be gone foul creature! Demon of hell; soul leecher!"I cried in a broken coarse voice,Stood with a tall but trembling poise,Withdrew my sword and thrust it through his breast,Thousands of glittering mirror shards fell to the ground - I have passed the test. If only writing could be so easy,If the words came as easy as breathing,It seems so simple to win the battle,To be so happy ina lavish castle,But writing takes a lot of patience - most of my time,Gives me vast mountains to climb,A war waging within myself,I shall fight with the cards I have been dealt,And when I win,I feel a furocious power stiring within.But when I lose,To rise above or lie on the floor I can choose.Everything is within my tiny hand,Is just so beautiful - is never bland.In a horrid and pitiless world,I can create anew with this pen and paper that is my foundation.