This is dedicated to LoveTheBoyWithTheBread, whose fic "Haunting the Loser" inspired me to try my hand at poetry. (: Go check it out.

Puppets on Strings

Blindfolded, gagged, bound at the wrists.
We cannot fight, we cannot resist.
We bow unwilling before unjust kings.
We are nothing more than puppets on strings.

Pull one tiny cord and countless throats are cut.
No one asks questions; no how, why, or what.
Our tongues are sliced out; no voice speaks, no voice sings.
We are nothing more than puppets on strings.

We're forced to the stage, pitted against one another,
Sister against sister, brother against brother.
We kill to survive among all the dead things.
We are nothing more than puppets on strings.

The choice is not ours; puppeteers have control.
Without our free will we can never be whole.
They break our legs, burn off our wings.
We are nothing more than puppets on strings.

Biting our tongues, we suffer for their art.
A knife in the back, an arrow through the heart.
Their amusement is more gruesome than your worst imaginings.
We are nothing more than puppets on strings.

The applause for this sick puppet show is a poison slap across the cheek.
This losing game of cat and mouse leaves us cowardly and weak.
Trembling before the mighty puppet master, we fall surrendering.
We are nothing more than his puppets on his strings.

Someone must make a stand; take a blade to the master rope.
Through the fear and terror of this world, one act can ignite hope.
I alone can make a difference, spark change in what the grim future may bring.
I will never be a helpless puppet on a string.

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