4 October 2012
I cannot seem to move my limbs unless you say I can.
I stand beside you, strung to strings, you are my puppet-man.
If you say 'dance' my feet will move all of their own accord.
If you say 'fight' I have no choice, I parry with my sword.
If you say 'sing' my voice will raise and hold a merry tune.
If you say 'sleep' I thank the gods and rest in my cocoon.
My mind is yours, as are my feet, my hands and all the rest.
Even my voice, which resonates, and crawls right up my chest.
But the one thing I call my own, my heart is mine to keep.
My heart stays mine whilst you say 'jump', and even as I leap.
Puppet-Man. • Opuss № I