The Archetype

-The Archetype-
by
Keaton Foster



Pen to page
Words
Turned slaves
Molded fades
So many chances
To be laid
Screwed hard
Screwed good
Nailed to the door
Kicked to the curb
Do what is said
Or else
Suffer my wrath
Reach that point
That anamorphic place
When life means even less
It's about cutting the feet
Off babies and throwing
Them into the deepest sea
Sink or swim
Such a solemn decree
Madness so it seems
Realism I do bleed
Hemorrhaging what others
Dare not have the heart to express
God will of course judge me
His crooked finger will be
As straight as an arrow for me
So if you would please
See each and every line
Hear each rhyme
Understand the plan
Take it all deep inside
Let the idea fester
Become quite sick
Damn near certain death
See both darkness and light
Feel both fear and joy
Whichever floats your boat
But be sure to always know
That in the greatest of distance
There is a wave coming
And your, or should it be said
Our boat is taking on water
Not buckets full but rather drops
And ounce here and an ounce there
Unnoticed by those lacking perception
Which like everything else
Was intended all along
The Archetype
Created by a twisted master
Redundancy and capacity
Are always at odds
Every purpose and all meaning
Are both on the same sinking boat
I am sitting center mass
I of course will be absolutely last
I will see the greatest of show
Of such a show I will offer up details
Painted with an ever-widening brush
Understand is you are one
Meant to do as such
If not
Then please dismiss all of this a diatribe
Diarrhea of the pen and page
Buckets of ink split on something pristine
Making it like everything else
Exceedingly ugly in an expansive ocean
Of ever-increasing human grotesqueries
The Archetype is where it began
But not where it will indeed end...




The Archetype
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013