Puppeteer

As his lips were sewn by the iniquitous hand, noisome iron streaked the stubbled grey, loosing ferric wishes upon the deafened earth

The pretender, the fraudster, Life, with bewitching, infectious glee, mended its marionette bespoken; into compliance, obediently broken

He painted himself into a corner of his mind, with colours of ignominy and humility, using broad strokes of incredulity; trapped by the never was and never will be

When then these coercions forced their way through the welling windows, as each pane betrayed the pressure, the cascading saline adulterated the sanguinolent pleas

Mollified by the pink, swirled confession, hypnotized by his own warped reflection, he languidly hangs from the noose beneath the fingers of his puppeteer

art: (untitled) by Zdzisław Beksiński

Published by a.d.matthias

no w here

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