Shackled in time; corralled with destiny
a demure artist, with ego by his side
stifled bitter pangs that arose in a belly
while flaunting a heart, that’d digest pride
Crowds flocked all day long and cheered
taking true delight in this depraved fun
but the man proudly held on to his ‘fast’
and never bothered to pull a fast one
In this tiny pen, he carved out a niche
poised on a throne and starving in style
for all seven courses were just loud claps
as he jubilantly ignored the caustic bile
In time, this spectacle lost its sheen
weary, the folks retreated in thin trail
the pageant sadly bore a vapid look
as for the Artist, famished and frail
So they cooped this man astride a tent
caged him in, hung him out to dry
an eager Panther gladly took his throne
fate it seemed, had bigger fish to fry
A modest soul, ablaze in fiery urge
had wagered skin and gut in this game
with a insatiable desire to abandon grub
for as little as a tiny morsel of fame
Unhinged eyes on the shrunken figure
were stripped of honour, as he lay bereft
though the entry was quite with a bang
there stood loud silence, when he mutely left
Not a petal slept on his unmarked grave
yet life had engraved its indelible seal
enchanted stares now eyed the Panther
lauding, as it wolfed a hearty meal