The Puppetmaster

He was the puppet master –

The one behind the scenes –

She said, blaming him for

All the crimes she had done.

He was the one who pulled the strings –

The one who pushed her all along -

She cried, he was the one

Forcing her to take the steps,

To raise her arms

In her brilliant puppet show –

NO! It was something else –

A ventriloquist act,

With her as the dummy –

Not the one who was

Playing the scene and

Making things happen, only the

Scapegoat, saying all the things

He would never say –

For doing the deed he would not do.

Yes, her hands were stained –

Her soul was marked –

But it was he,

“IT WAS HE

Who made me

Into what I am!”

The jury nodded,

And sent her away

To her home, to her life,

Because they too believed

That it was he

Who was the eminence grise –

And he became the scapegoat

For her crimes instead.

 

Perhaps this is irony enough,

This transformation from

Guilty to innocent

And from blameless to blamed,

But wait! – like a good show,

It was not over yet.

Once he had heard

That it was he who was blamed,

And that she was now free,

He laughed and went to her once more

And, as he would have it,

Took her in his arms,

Dragging her along to her death.

He knew that they would not

Ever dare to hunt him,

Because they were his servants –

For he was called Fate.

Reviews

[Ally Baker]

Great write!

~~Ally Baker
"Don't upset the writer. they might put you in one of their books and kill you."

[~Mary Ann~]

What an interesting tale of intrigue... and the discription of the puppetmaster! It kept my attention from beginning until end! Part of me agrees, yet part of me says that you are in control of your own destiny.
Or maybe it is even a combination of both. A wonderful tale... I appreciate the talent it takes to weave a story as such. :)