Ode to a Poetess
The power to create lies not beyond my grasp
Pawns of my making;
Kings and queens, monarchs and matriarchs
Emperors and empresses, enchantresses and peasants,
Even those who dared defy the gods,
Dare not defy me
An incidental untimely flick of my wrist
Is all it takes to erase your ephemeral existence
From even the most ancient of scrolls
Hidden behind the hushed
Dusty antique secretive oak doors
Of the world of the non-existent
Your fate is just a dark dice
I choose when to roll
Trials and tribulations
Judgement or redemption
Non is far from my caustic imagination.
An easy concatenation of your eternal verities
Can simply make me mess
With the threads of your sanity
And knock at the temples of your sanctity.
Create and destroy, make and shatter
All is just a fragment of my power.
I can make worlds attend their obsequies
And rulers of your time bow at my feet
I would be inclined to let you be known of my presence
But of all, none of you I deem worthy enough
To traipse in the halls of my courts.
As for to whom I owe this ode,
Dearest, are you sure you want to know?
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