Library
Puppet
Puppet
1 min
384
My peregrination to your mind
The eternal strife to seek and find;
Leaves me masquerading
Like a puppet without a soul,
Lifeless form, hanging from a pole -
Twisted and taut the strings;
A pull ever slightly will bring,
The Master’s failures to the fore -
The blackness within and more.
It burns the brightest and then its gone,
Its scintillating existence denied;
The universe won.
The mirror reflects a form without a face,
Once again a part of the arboreal race.
