Absolute

An Artist’s Hunger

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