As the authors go on with their pointless talk.

We wonder if they'll write a story or just walk.

Away from the world which was to never be...

A world of imagination and possibilities!

Endless, like the broad seas.

Yet tiny like the puddles we see.

Giant, like the endless skies.

Yet tiny like a frog looking at the heavens high.

The authors talk and wonder what to do.

"Maybe we can make a story like the books we've been through?"

One of them utters, history knows not who...

"That's a good idea, let the chaos ensue !"

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A system lain out full of infinite power.

A soul created with the worlds arrogance and valor...

A end which suits it not...

A future lain with bloodshed and distraught...

What is out on this stories edge.

What possibilities do we lose by starting out like this instead?