Anthea - Dead Artist

*****
Artist is dead
He was crushed by a shoe of rivalry
Firm tread faltered, so finally
He missteped the tight rope without a circus net

Artist is dead
His heart was absorbed by the avarice
Gangrene has spread, he's of the top but apterous
Exhausted inspiration is what he begets

Artist is dead
Tortured, trapped in his own drawings
Soul's never to be fed, so warnings
Will never work, he wants to live through that pain again and again

That's why I break loose from my rhymes, until that,
I'm not an Artist, I'm the Dead
*****
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