To play the part of a marionette is forever;
manipulation strings long gone almost to walk on air.
Tied to wooden x's you dangle,
acting on impulse they divulge your feeling.
Frayed strings, shredded, near broken,
this fantasy is free, the cost a cut down tree.
In the distance a sunrise under the canopy of a clever smokescreen,
and I the smoke, I waft away.