"A Respective Perspective of an Escapist from Sylvia Plath’s Soliloquy"

With plans masked behind a wicked pair of devil’s eyes

A web of a child’s fantasies becomes the masters ultimate demise:

And I see the people raise their arms dangling in a limp and frail dance

Oh how lifeless they comply with the puppeteer’s ideals of romance

And triumphant our god stands as we meet her every demand

We see the ground become a purply green with just the wave of her hand

As the sky rains cotton to help those who laugh as they bleed

How dare anyone confuse her graciousness for greed?

It’s hard to see these generous deeds in any other light

Because she is the one who can turn day into night

The empathy from our majesty grants an aroma of a flowery fuse

One that you can taste if that’s the sense she were to choose

And then there are no blues

A world of gray and red

But of course this all seems normal, it’s the way things have always been

Alas I reach behind her golden throne to find a creaky door

That provides me an escape from the game of marbles that is this world

Slowly I wander down a hall towards a guiding light

One that she didn’t create, however it empowered just despite

And taxing it was for me to leave the one who gifted a beating chest 

However she forgot about the thing that she did best

Was to give me a brain a mind a soul hidden in a writing wrist

One to guide me to rectify the corruptions of a solipsist.