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Puppeteer
The strings tied tightly round the porcelain doll.
Let's begin the show called deceitful love--
Held captive by a hoax, triumphing all.
Lurking in the dark where the controller perched above.
My body bows to the bend of fingers.
Holding me together; Misconception.
The breath of pretense in the air lingers,
Diffusing false resemblance of affection.
The Puppeteer has all mastery.
A string unraveled leaves the body shattered.
On the stage, remains of a tragedy.
Once was flattered now stripped bare and tattered.
Will a careful hand ever reach the ground?
Piecing the doll together. Was she found?
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An extended metaphor of a victim in a manipulative love trance.