You, the one holding the strings

What sort of soul surrounds your being?

You must have have a mother, a father?

A wife? A son or a daughter?

Feel the sun, shiver in the cold?

Delight in being young, dread getting old?

Enjoy a sip of something with someone

Share an occasion with a loved one?

Slink down to enjoin your one world plan

Are you just pure evil, are you just pure man?

Do you not see the blood, suffrage, torture and grit

Do you not see the devastation of your stationed pulpit?

Secret meetings, codes, rendezvous, cameras and videotapes

Private, underground, backdoor backstabbing prison gates

Lost lives, lost souls all

Eyes so dry no tears can fall

Mothers with headless babes

After drunken soldiers' raids

Fathers forced to endure

Unsightly ghastly torture

It will end, you will die

Once transferred to the afterlife

Taste likewise, Who's playing your game?

The One holding the strings, you cursed His Name

The power of justice comes relentless and true

The cost of immorality you lovingly clinged to

You could use your power for good

Turn back the tide, reversing the flood

You could agree the world is not worth it

Disgracing the accursed who whispers in secret

Still there is time, for you are not the grand puppeteer

Your soul too, has a destination you can't steer

Once directed by the Grand Master Whom you flee

Never to die, engulfed in flames for an eternity

Most certainly,

The curtains you see

Will never open or close again

The strings will have broken

Bravo! Bravo!

The puppet's revenge

Encore! Encore!

Cheers a white clad audience

• Currently 4.00/5 Stars

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