“Being a writer, is never easy, as having to play the part of each and every character inside the arc, drives one crazy, most days, sitting there, talking silently to oneself” Gun Roswell

You can call me Alias, Alias Fakename

All those stories, all those characters strong, bold, uninteresting and lame, each of them, playing their own little games

Living their lives inside this writers mind, never letting them sleep, taking the writer in too deep

All the worlds, being built and destroyed, restored and revisited, circle never ending

A lot of time, inside there, all day long, even some nights to be spending

Well, it is really easy, being a little crazy, some might say, even a lot

But, being right there, on the spot, with those written and some still waiting to become, characters

Would you think any less, of the author, the bard, stating they were none to smart

To be doing all that?

But then again, these worlds, these people, animals what have yous, will surely last

Long since the scribe is gone, unless somehow, they will manage to incorporate themselves

Inside the world of insanity, the world of total fantasy, and remain their all eternity