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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1622939
A "Master of Puppets" tribute. Wouldn't it be more fun to be a puppet? No sentience.

Freedom! Freedom! Do you feel free?
Taking to be truth, all that you see.
'Tis a sour pity, what is deemed by you.
Your freedom, mournfully, is untrue.

All that you did, do, and will do,
Is not of your own; so sad but true.
The illusion of liberty comes crashing down,
The strings of the master are pulling you around.

The master of puppets
Does control
The things that you see,
And the thoughts that you hold.

Your dreams are shattered
Still, you believe.
Your mind is twisted,
There is no reprieve.

Being a puppet sure must be nice
As nothing is virtue, and nothing is vice.
Free will, of course, just annoys.
Wouldn't you much rather be amongst the toys?

Your limits are set
Isn't it fun?
For nothing to fret
From nothing to run.

Obey the master!
Your life is past.
Come crawling faster.
This breath is your last...
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