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?