“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
