murder she wrote

i have killed my writing skill. the bitch goddess creeped up on me and tried to sink her venomous fangs into my naked skin. but as i herd the sound of her creative promise, i turned around and shot her in the head.she shrieks out in verse...is that a haiku she moans??the poet and playwright drink from her wounds, desperately seeking inspiration from what has now turned to stagnant piffle.and the early maggot, while i see it pass between eyes, beauty made blind, she retches and dies with a last whisperto art