Possessed by passion

A puppet strangled by its own strings

And controlled by a passionate psychopath

So happy by his little doll

Trying to master the mechanism craft  

A beautiful marionette

With a sad eye

With a silent voice

And an obligatory laugh

An owner dressing it with lovely dresses

That matches her dreamy eyes

With charming little ribbons

Just to tie her by

But all the grace and the joy is a costume

All the exterior is a lie

She is just an obedient instrument

Used as a tool only for its director to ply

A lifeless static pushover

Used as a humbled servant for its majesty’s satisfaction

A helpless victim, in his smothering handle

A puppet with lumps in its texture

With burnt holes in its material

Appeared dressed like a highness

But her sorrow and grief undress her.