My Marionette

My marionette

Come to life for me.

Animate the soulless husk

In the mirror I see.

Leave the glamor and ease

Of a marionette doll.

Don’t bow to an audience

And wait for the call.

An artist can create you

And a writer write your diction,

But living sealed in glass panes

Is living in fiction.

My marionette

Come to life for me.

Without resistance of your own

You’ll never set free.

Or is that your decision?

To never emancipate.

To remain in your prison

Away from reality coupled hate.

Reflected in mirrors

And glass panes all around

Is a safety in solitude

Only here to be found.

Freedom comes with a price,

My marionette,

And without a soul to fight

Your puppetry is cemented

With blood woodened and a smile carved.

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