Murder Mystery

Pour the hourglass sand in the rusted tin can
 the looking glass man dressed in robes from Japan
 The chauffeur of the van with the globe in his hand,
 The roller coaster lands in the ocean
 Alas, the commotion is matched by the force of the splash,
 The source of the blast was a poor silly guy
 The orphan in rags,
 a fraudulent match for the torturous wrath of the horseman in black
 The sorcerer laughs,
 Foes in the bath with a cauldron of rats, gone in a flash
 The forces of life,
 Absorbed in a fight with the wrong and the right,
 The author was typing, the water was icy, the slaughter was pricey
 the martyr was light-skinned with chartered indictments that started in high school
 His father was Michael, He shot him with a rifle,
 A product of the cycle.