Dying Artist

Epic performance of a dying artist.

Too sensitive for this cruel world.

She stumbles, from pain to rage,

Screaming and destroyed on her stage.

Talent leaking through puncture holes;

Star dust fades before the eclipse.

People still pulling the purse,

Milking every last breathless verse.

Maybe it's time to reverse that curse?

Cats have eight, you have one;
Reserve that hearse!

Survive to see a clear setting sun.

Let the performance go on and on;

Without a premature interlude.

This Entr'acte is not the end!

You've earned the love,

Now it's time to spend.

And the haters just need a bone;

Their chests puffed up with every moan.

Borrowed time, we're all on loan.

Time alone will send you home.

Live a hundred times or more.

Leave Tragedy behind the door.

Drag the self from the pit.

Make that score your final hit.