I am not really ure what I should go for a world-famous novelist or a world-famous poet. Please tell me from reading these examples.

Poem

Souls of the Dead

I hear them in my slumber

begging to be freed

They wander throughout the night

seeking their most desired

which is freedom from

this cold mortal world

How can I hear them?

That is what you inquire

and wonder if I am ill

I'm their Guardian

and keeper of the balance

between Life and Death

Lost Souls of the Dead

I hear them in my slumber

wanting their freedom

Novel Intro

The world around Joran was grim and the planet of Andolia was what seemed like ruins. Hoards of grey-skinned beasts were coming wave after wave. Millions of Andolians seemed to fall. He was in the midst of the danger, fighting the Shiranaks with all he got. However, a dark sinister beast stepped out of the spacecarft and pointed a dark-blade at him. "You are next, son of Palara," he saidd as he went in for a kill.

Joran woke up with a start. He was breathing hard and sweating. Obviously, it was a nightmare, but he was sure it was real. He noticed his lamp was leviatating in the air because of him, so he set it down.

"How foolish of me," said Joran. "Wasting my time with nightmares." Then he caught a whiff of food and climbed out of bed. He slipped on his night robe, but saw it wasn't needed being it was already morning time. So, he changed to his brown robe and headed out to the dining room where he saw his father at the head of the banquet table with food piled up on his plate. Another plate was sitting next to him.

"Well, son, how are you doing today?" asked Palara. "Come take a seat and enjoy."

"Thanks, father," said Joran, smiling. He walked over and took a seat. In front of him was pancakes topped with sausages and drizzled with syrup. The sausages seemed fresh from the pigs and were a bit dark.

Joran dug in stuffing his mouth with a big pancake slice and swallowed.

"Whoa, steady there," said Palara smiling. Joran slowed down and wiped his mouth.

"Sorry about that," said Joran, giving a faint smile. "I just had a bad night. Trying to hurry up and maybe relieve some of it by battling Ronar in an Aura-Blasting Competition." At that, he took another bite and drunk some of teh purplish juice sitting next to the plate. That was when the door opened and Ronar came in.

Ronar was Joran's older brother and dressed in the golden robes of the prince. He sat down and a servant came out to take his order.

"Hey, Joran," said Ronar. "Hows my little bro doing?"

"Nothing much, older bro." said Joran, "Just going to beat you in Aura Blasting after we finish eating."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Ronar. The pancakes came out immediately and Ronar quickly cleaned his plate. Joran finished as well and the same servant came to collect the dishes.

"I shall meet you at the Training Room," said Ronar. He clapped his hands and vanished.

"Urr, I hate when he does that," said Joran. "Later, Dad." At that, the younger brother took off down the palace corridor.

I said going for a world-famous novel or poet. I know I am not world-famous yet.