65. Puppet Master

Here in this dark night
My eyes burn like dying embers
Smoke lingering in the air
The wet air between me and the world

A streetlight paints over the lot
Our faces cast in sepia
I feel detached, separate from myself
Watching dead eyes in the yellow light
Watching ashes stir in the wind

I am the puppet master
And you are all marionettes
Pulled and twisted by my hands,
The blade next to your strings

Strings bound to my fingers,
And the blade
Bound with the weight of worlds

To free you from my grasp
Is freedom enough for me.

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~ by Kyu! on August 17, 2014.

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