The Marionette

Dirty

Defiled

Internal corruption erodes my senses of morality

Lust and filth and flames and dirt

Latched in the grips of the one I despise

Yet a complete conformist to his rebellion

I remain the marionette in this debased scheme

He pulls my strings until I pay my due

He pulls my strings so clever for the perfect crime

He pulls my strings, controls me, then throws me…

Cracked and busted and useless and helpless amidst my grand stage of performances

I lay there…strings entangling me

Gashes and cracks in my wooden arms

Evidence of my downfall

Marks of my shame

The audience, with faces something detestable, laughs at me

They point and jest and bask in my humiliation…

I tug harder and harder to free myself of the strings

Yet more and more enwrapped I become

Twisting and tripping on my own defeat…

They leave me here and retreat from the arena with prideful smirks

Tasting more and more glory and greed as they place more and more bets on my demise…

They are gone…for now.

I catch my bearings though slipping on my tears

I gather up my strings and attempt to straighten them…

Then I wash the blood off my hands

Slaughtering any trace of evidence

All conformation of my deadly deed drains into oblivion, gone and unknown

But not forgotten.

My conscience sucks me under...

Around

Around

Around I go…

the never-ending spiral sucks me under.