I once set out to write a tale
Of woe and wonder,
Fame and fortune,
Pride and prejudice,
If you will.

Little did I know
That on the other side of my pen,
Lie a deity, a god of sorts,
A creator of things,
A writer of words,
And scare had I perceived him
When his voice thundered from the Heavens,
That I was not a hero by any measure,
Not the protagonist, nor her ally,
Not even a passer-by was I.

No,
I was summarily told that I was the enemy,
Or rather – The Adversary,
That ancient foe Lucifer,
Cast down,
Cursed
To pen tales of Paradise Lost
And write in my Devil’s Notebook,
For if I wanted knowledge,
Said he,
I would have to earn it,
And yearn for it,
And burn
Here
In hell for it.