The Demiurge is sort of a subgenus. The original term genius meant a minor deity, reference to a household God. This is why we sort of casually sometimes say that people we admire really well are God. A God.
Wiki says Demiurge means maker, or creator, but there is more to it. Think shaper or architect. The one who struck down the tower of Babel. Like moulding clay, it’s not a true creator. It’s really the crux of a lot of religious argument.
The Demiurge’s Laugh by Robert Frost
It was far in the sameness of the wood;
I was running with joy on the Demon’s trail,
Though I knew what I hunted was no true god.
It was just as the light was beginning to fail
That I suddenly head–all I needed to hear:
It has lasted me many and many a year.
The sound was behind me instead of before,
A sleepy sound, but mocking half,
As one who utterly couldn’t care.
The Demon arose from his wallow to laugh,
Brushing the dirt from his eye as he went;
And well I knew what the Demon meant.
I shall not forget how his laugh rang out.
I felt as a fool to have been so caught,
And checked my steps to make pretense
I was something among the leaves I sought
(Though doubtful whether he stayed to see).
Thereafter I sat me against a tree.