The writer’s sword

How very cutting is a writer’s words

Which sword do they wield?

A tough muscle of a tongue

Where many a heart has been killed

The writer shies not from truth

Their words bite like a determined croc

Each has a loyal following; each has their own dear flock

What next shall a writer say?

One can never tell

But dear hearts sit in hope or wonder

Will they be bought to Hell?


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