The Artists call

F**k, I got stuck
In The land of the lost
Cause,
which must've
Made me
loathe the Artists'
Call,
knowing I'll destroy
what creates
Such wonder
and awe

But am I that big,
A god of destruction
Running amuck and
Taking whatever sticks
To the wall?

Probably just sick,
And tired
Of waiting to answer

The artists' call.