Marionette

Fickle braids heckled fret,                                        

Sickly poignant beset,

Uni-klef; suckling servitude,

Hollow Oak, shrouded inquietude.

Fungi Timber-woods. Hobbling Fey,

The path it takes will surely weigh,

Mirror. Mirror without candor,

Tell a story without slander. 

A dodecahedron rolled by the master,

Controlling hands of guile and alabaster,

It’s the Marionette, needless to say. 

"A story of peril." "Just today!"

A Marionette looks to King,

The violin with a Dream,

The most complex to bow,

Those strings broke long ago.

"Not Controlled," the Marionette said,

With a wooden mouth; stringed with thread,

Are with or without the enslaved?

Asking, a marionette, restrained.

Puppeteers, and ventriloquists, on trial, 

Pulling the strings. They are "The Exsisting Vile."

Strings corroded by control,

easily broken when pulled.

The audience of repented whines, 

does nothing except yell and lose their minds,

The Marionette sees its chance,

Will it pull or do its dance?