The monster has a grip on you like a fiendish dog that ravished a piece of feral meat
Gripping all of you, holding tightly to your soul
The things you say, the things you do are actions not from self,
but like a puppet you obey
Twisting, turning and moulding you into something rather dark
the puppet master make you say, the puppet master make you do, but none of these that make you you,
your thoughts are rather twisted like a puzzle not yet solved,

I peer a glimpse of you and you say you will be fine,
I hear the things the words you say that remind me of the time,
but the time has fluttered across the sea and the memories they still fade
I hope one day you break away and the puppet master meets swift demise
But until that day, in every way,
I slowly but surly die inside