One who holds all power here
One who creates without fear
The ebb and flow of life itself
Is just a notebook on a shelf
The game of life is their's to lose
The world itself is what they choose
The stars are made from pure desire
The people like Athena sired
They conjure all the plants, and trees
And shape their own morality
The beasts may talk, or sing, or dance
And villains get a second chance
Such power comes with an awful cost
For he must face all he has lost
The self-doubt forever haunting
And great risks forever daunting
Not only in reality
But also walking in a dream
Those they love grow ever distant
Young lust will lose all enchantment
What was once safety and comfort
Now rains attack with maximum effort
Through it all, one born to create
Regardless of love turned hate
To crush Fear in all of her splendor
He does it all just to spite her
That one is The Writer.