The Escape - The Agonist

Memory is fiction so the past is your invention

Catch yourself, self-dissect…

How youth outlives age

How beauty shames skill

Prayer is for dependents and wish is for the will

A struggle for independence, a harmless stage

Art gaining post-mortem fame

Oh Creatice!

Your vibrant portfolio has never shone as brightly

As your latest masterpiece!

All efforts' fruition in such a wondrous offspring

How did you manage a piece so perfect?

Entrancing passers-by to lock eyes and gaze, hypnotized

Overcome with the need to outdo the last

A child born so dependent rebels so quickly once he has his footing —

Forgets where and who raised him and how he came to be

But a growing pain cannot explain behavior of the like!

A perfect child deserves the best

But at the cost of what else, did you instill this need

To over-consume without regret?

Broken pencils, charred marble drafts

He leaves destruction in his path

Your one mistake, oh great Creatice

Was giving too large a brain

(This organ, like disease, can disseminate beyond your reach

You didn’t predict this.

A carnal rebellion in its wake)

Strike back with forces beyond his reach

That even six billion can’t defeat!

Go lock up the aggressor!

Quarantine before it’s too late!

Bred to lose sense of consequence

In his greed he exhausts your milk, your blood, your shelter…

Don’t let him escape!

Memory is fiction so the past is your invention

Catch yourself, self-dissect…

How youth outlives age

How beauty shames skill

Prayer is for dependents and wish is for the will

A struggle for independence, a harmless stage

Art gaining post-mortem fame

Throw your blood upon his lands, your skin cracked and depleted

Suck the air from out his lungs, expose him fully, let him burn

Show him to appreciate, discipline the cruel ingrate

You still have the power to reshape — do not let this escalate

Vapors vanish in the night

Statuesque guards, seconds too late

What rebellion possessed thee?

A dangerous subterfuge, a lonely rampage, anxious fleet

Like limbs tumbling horizontally

Now it’s too late!

The child has escaped!

Indignant ties, parental constraints — a child protected sets self free

And the ingrate will lay in the bed he has made

As a self-imposed apocalypse finally grants You peace