the storyteller

what if god was not god?

Photo by Jake Weirick on Unsplash

i am a god,

with every swirl of the pen,

and the furious scribble of words across the script,

worlds are born and some destroyed,

characters to play with,

in the worlds i create,

i imagine they reckon me to be a god,

yet am i not a mere mortal? or not,

what if the divine being was such?

a storyteller in his own world,

and he’s somewhere in a coffee shop writing our roles,

are we then only mere playthings?

whose only purpose is to serve the creator’s whim,

then is there no will or divine purpose?

our every breath already orchestrated,

dancing to the tune of the storyteller.

p.s: 50 claps isn’t too much is it?