The simple silhouette hides the sunken eyes of this bruised and broken puppet
The strings hold strong but its neck is broken
The sight of its damaged state shows evidence of a monster awoken
Hanging, dangling from rustic rafters
Puppet after puppet broken, shattered
When will the master stop
Never will the master stop
The ax to the wooden faces
Pleasure in its sound is what the puppet master has found
To the unobservant eye
The poppet is just a puppet hanging on loose strings
The master is just a master pulling those strings tight
Everything seams right in this disguising light
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