Circe.

Circe, they called her,
For she was a literal goddess of magic,
With a twist of her pen and a story in her head she could make anything come to life.
With her wildest dreams and greatest ideas she created a universe she could call her own.
None of the poets who came before or after her could ever match her power.

Amazed by her dexterity,
And magical powers,
The people left everything they knew and decided to follow her.
“For better or for worse,” they said,
Because they believed her kindness was as great as her mystical powers.

But soon the magic consumed her whole,
And the dreams she’d brought to life turned quickly to nightmares.
The people were stuck, trapped within the confines,
Of the magical Island that had once been their delight.

She became a tyrnat, greedy with power,
Ruling the nightmare town with an iron fist.
The people lay before her begging and pleading,
When she refused to answer and things only got harder,
They withdrew and cried out to other powers;
“In the name of the father, son and every poet that dare say her name,
Please let the reign of queen Circe come to an end.”