I am Persona Non Grata,
seeing as how I don’t really exist,
except in the pages of your novel
trilogy, twenty years in the making,
twenty five if you are honest.
Why so long keeping me dead
in order to bring me to life?
Are you afraid people will think
I’m you, and your cover will be blown?
It is something to think about, you know.
If I survive, and you don’t, it will be like
something out of Beckett, and you’ll be pissed
at least for a little while, until you recall
you all die anyway, mere mortals on the earth,
while my life is eternal, if you ever dig me up.