Puppet DreamsA Poem by realmwriter
The puppet pulled on gossamer strings,
a ring of fire beneath its wings.
Cot up into smoldering sky, angry as the day goes by.
Driven mad by its singular goal.
Driven to pay its only tole.
Puppet bares the wait of being its own master,
so to the heavens it sores faster.
Angry at its own rebirth, naked as the dirty earth.
Puppet cut and slit its strings.
Puppet stood and took its reigns.
Puppet challenged to cut their strings,
other puppets to take their reigns.
So faster the dance macabre, maddened by the puppet mob.
Take up living, take up death.
Take up killing, no prisoners breath.
Puppets don't much like being puppets, so let us see how he likes it.
Screams of maddened glee fill the ears of the puppeteer.
One by one the puppets take their one time captor to wrench him in his own disaster.
They tie his limbs, they tie his toes, to what end only puppet knows.
They draw him up like a great marionette, to make him dance their anger vet.
Still, somehow puppet finds no joy in playing with his great toy.
Saddened and sickened puppet, your life is not your own.
Now my friend, you must live it, by yourself, alone.
© 2012 realmwriter
Added on May 13, 2012
Last Updated on May 14, 2012
AboutYou know, I can write about almost any subject, in poetic form and even an ocasional short story, but I find it most difficult to write about myself. I am an artist at heart and will use whatever m.. more..