The Puppet's Waltz



Come to me, my puppet sweet,

I do hereby command.

Move the ground with enslaved feet

And offer me your hand.

A skeleton hand, a bony grip

That cuts my blood away.

I cannot flee, I cannot slip

From you until the day.

Somebody made you cold and dark

Simply because they could,

Your eyes vacant of any spark,

Your body carved from wood.

‘Tis harsh wood- bound by ancient twine,

And heavy as blank stone.

It crushes me with fear I find

With you, therefore, alone.

Alone with plague, alone with shame,

You tread with silent grace,

I tremble as you slur my name

And now my form you trace.

Your figure, shadow in the shade;

I’m terrified, entranced-

You tell me not to be afraid,

You only want to dance.

You dance the night away with me

Until the morning bright

Makes glassy eyes’ starved vacancy

Gleam with the soft first light.

You trample and kill me over again,

You ask if I love you too;

I know you are my only friend

And softly respond “I do.”

You waltz and weave, your eerie ways

So do my soul entice.

Now when you leave, take me away

With you, that would be nice.

At the bottom of the long-dead lake,

Draped in ancient algae green

Are all the memories you take,

All the sunrises I’ve seen.

I pretend to be the puppeteer,

But really, I’m the slave.

Your twisted words are all I hear

As you withhold my grave.

Until I finally follow you there,

Until you pull me down.

With a single kiss, you steal my air

And with you, my love, I drown.