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Word Weaver (Spinner, Threader, Cutter)

The images that drew form from his words,
he once thought were merely those of fiction.
But even as the letters flowed from the ink of his pen,
even as they formed the words from which the pictures drew their splendor,
they took on a meaning all their own.

That meaning lay in mystery,
sequestered in the reaches of Apollo's keep
where mortal had no tread for centuries untold.
From there the author drew his gift,
from the ones below in the depth of shaded lands he spun his tales,
and so too the words wrought began to tell their events.

A fire consumed a woman's body.
A friend was marked so that he could not speak.
As realization dawned on the scribbler,
terror seized his heart.

Would his words,
as words had been for so many others,
cause the end of his loved ones?
The end of himself?

"Choose your words carefully, little one,
for they will be remembered."

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