In Wylie's workshop, where mischief is brewed, A resin replica, with secrets imbued.
Carved with precision, for a hundred and eight, Zane Wylie's craft, sealing fate.
"I solemnly swear," the skull seems to croon, "I am up to no good," beneath the moon.
With mischief managed, in every groove, A Potter fan's dream, a treasure to prove.
But beware, dear Potterites, heed my call, For Zane swears once more, to heed mischief's call.
A must-have piece, for fans so keen,
In Wylie's grasp, where mischief's seen.