If you go out with me, I'll frighten the birds I'll make your ears pop and you'll never be heard. You'll know I was there if a gun barrel is warmed, I was a huge hit when the universe formed.

I make writing, but I am not made of wood or ink. You might see me in a older classroom.

I’m a type of sword, with a long thin blade. I’m quick and nimble, for dueling I’m made.

From ancient eras have I stayed, ever roaming my murky glade. Neath murk and mire, I aim to scare. On rounded snout, my nostrils flare. Beware my wide and vicious smile. You will not see me after a while.

They call me a god wherever I rome and Close to the heat is where I call home. Seven siblings I have, now that one’s gone. I shepherded men atop mighty redstone. I make you reflect when I pour on the scene. I’ve made kings mad, and led a great queen