Puppet Corpse

I am a corpse hung on beautiful strings,

Strings of loyalty and tradition and mistrust.

I dance for thirsty eyes and uncaring mouths.

My flesh is rotting,

Worms slowing commandeer me

Feasting on what little I have left.

And I hold not a care.

Once I danced with life in my eyes

Sung a thoughtless song

Until I hung myself on these strings

And handed over my life away.

I slowly suffocated

Choking myself for my puppet master

Turning blue then a cold pale color

All the while not caring nor willing to stop.

Now I have nothing left and still I dance

I gave my life away, and in return I have others to choke

Controlling my own puppets and bleeding their life away.