New God With a Pen (Red Rage, Yellow Fear) is me taking the battle-poet persona and throwing it directly into the DC Universe.
The premise is simple: if I’m going to write like my pen has powers, why stop at superheroes? Give me Superman’s rage, Batman’s fear, Darkseid’s cosmic scale, and an Anti-Life Equation made entirely of rhyme—and suddenly the notebook becomes its own comic-book universe.
The important part is that the destruction stays where it belongs: on the page.
This is playful bravado, exaggerated power-scaling, and a little comic-book absurdity wrapped around the idea that a pen can make a poet feel damn near omnipotent.
Apparently, today my ink wanted to become a New God.
— Rowan Evans
The pen got cosmic. The rhyme scheme got dangerous. The notebook became a universe.
New God With a Pen (Red Rage, Yellow Fear) Poetry by Rowan Evans
I am Metropolis in the shadows,
and Gotham in the light—
that might feel backwards,
but it’s not—
I’m Superman with a red ring when I write,
unstoppable and full of rage—
but I keep the rage contained to the page,
so while I might slaughter you—
you’ll be both victim and witness.
Because you’ll be able to read it too,
like headline news, front page—
and if you think that’s bad, no dear—
I’m Yellow Lantern Batman,
I rule the shadows and control fear.
I’ll write lines so terrifying,
they make you want to disappear—
and so you know, I deleted four lines…
there were more disses here.
I write lines so tight with rhymes
that hit so hard, even Darkseid
looks at me like a New God now.
I put the Anti-Life Equation
in my lines, that’s why my rhymes
have the power to control minds.
You can’t compete with me.
I’ve beaten you completely.
Journey into the Hexverse
[The Sacred Timeline] From childhood stories about Dragon Ball Z, Power Rangers, and Pokémon to gothic cathedrals, ravens, roses, identity, healing, and experimentation, The Sacred Timeline traces how Rowan Evans’s relationship with the pen evolved across thirty-six years—and how the ink remained while the writer kept changing.
[The Metaphor Machine] A poem that takes apart its own machinery as it runs—breaking lines, breaking thoughts, and following metaphors from moonlight to tides, oceans, shorelines, and city streets.
[Welcome to the Hexverse] Step into the Hexverse—a poetic world where mythmaking, humor, rage, creativity, and confession collide, and darkness becomes something that can be reshaped into art.
I was playing with the idea of a character moving through different fictional universes and refusing every invitation offered to them. No Justice League. No Avengers. No X-Men. No Jedi Order. No chosen destiny. No sacred prophecy.
Just refusal.
But as I kept writing, something else emerged.
The more references I added, the less the poem became about superheroes and the more it became about autonomy.
Because beneath every fictional universe is usually the same question:
Who decides who you are?
A team? A title? A destiny? A prophecy? A god? A system?
Or you?
That’s where the title comes from.
“Lone Wolf Theology” isn’t really about isolation. It’s about self-authorship.
Not the rejection of connection, but the rejection of surrendering your identity to something external. The refusal to let institutions, expectations, labels, or inherited narratives become the sole authority over your life.
The superheroes, anti-heroes, and mythic references serve as modern archetypes here. They represent power, belonging, destiny, responsibility, faith, rebellion, and purpose. The speaker moves through those worlds, not because they reject what those symbols represent, but because they refuse to let any one of them define them completely.
At its core, this piece is about choosing your own path.
Not because it is easier.
Not because it guarantees success.
But because there is something sacred about deciding for yourself who you will become.
And perhaps that is the real theology hidden beneath all the comic books, capes, and cosmic references:
Freedom is a practice.
A choice made repeatedly.
A vow renewed every time the world tries to tell you who you should be.
— Rowan Evans
No prophecy. No chosen order. No inherited destiny. Only the road ahead and the freedom to decide who you become.
Lone Wolf Theology Poetry by Rowan Evans
I’m a lone wolf, anti‑hero—
Punisher psychology,
Frank Castle reality,
and Deadpool’s mentality.
Yeah, that’s the fucking recipe.
Fuck the League (Justice!)
I don’t need no team,
there are no Avengers around me.
I am the evolution of man,
no X‑Gene. No X team
in this rhyme scheme.
I don’t need a Bat‑Signal,
I light up my own sky.
Tell Stark I don’t need a suit—
I’m built different, that’s why.
Tell Logan I don’t need claws,
I cut deep with my words.
Tell Thor I don’t need hammers
to make thunder heard.
Fantastic Four?
I’m fantastic solo.
Guardians of the Galaxy?
I guard galaxies dolo.
Teen Titans?
I’ve been grown since birth.
Suicide Squad?
I don’t need a squad to put you in the dirt.
Lantern Corps?
I don’t need a ring to shine.
I’m the willpower,
the fear,
the rage—
all combined.
I don’t run with the Speed Force,
I outrun it.
Flash chasin’ lightning—
I become it.
No timeline can hold me,
no paradox breaks me.
Barry hit the wall of time—
I run through it.
Spider‑Verse?
I don’t need a web to connect.
I cut every thread
and still command respect.
Tell Parker I don’t need
“great power” speeches.
Tell Miles I don’t need
a leap of faith to reach this.
Venom? Carnage?
I don’t fear their spawn.
Symbiotes whisper to hosts—
to me, they speak in song.
I wear darkness like armor,
I don’t need it to cling.
I’m the wolf in the shadows—
they’re just wearing the skin.
And the Jedi Order?
Please.
I don’t need a council
to tell me what peace is.
I don’t need a saber
to carve out my path.
I don’t need the Force—
I am the aftermath.
No light side.
No dark side.
Just my side.
My creed.
My theology.
The lone wolf
doesn’t join orders—
he creates one
by being free.
In the end,
there is no order to join,
no destiny to inherit,
no prophecy to fulfill.
There is only the road,
the breath,
the choice to rise
when no one is watching.
Freedom is not a gift—
it is a vow whispered in the dark.
And I keep it.
Always.
So write this
in the margins of every myth:
I owe nothing to the crowns of men
or the councils of gods.
I walk the line between fate and defiance,
and I do not break—
I bend the world around me.
If destiny comes calling,
tell it to knock louder.
I don’t follow prophecy.
I make it bleed
until it follows me.
Journey into the Hexverse…
[L Words & Heart] A playful, self-aware poem about love, longing, loyalty, and the quiet ways another person can reshape our inner world. What begins as humor slowly reveals a heartfelt confession about affection, imagination, and the faces that linger in our dreams.
[Just Beyond Waking] A street that feels familiar. A life that hasn’t happened yet. Just Beyond Waking explores the fragile space between dreams, memory, longing, and the quiet feeling that some futures are already waiting for us.
[Twin Suns, Sister Moons] A poem about distance, longing, and the quiet pull of someone who lives beneath a different sky. Between twin suns and sister moons, the heart keeps reaching for home.
[It’s You I Choose] A poem about devotion, vulnerability, and the quiet decision to stay. Sometimes love isn’t certainty—it is choosing someone anyway.
