Silken curtains raise, strings firmly yank 
controlling my feet I unwillingly rise
my mouth woven shut, eyes blank
as I'm secured by knots, my master ties
 
Fastened, onto imperious boards 
once attached vivid strings dim
he manipulates my body, with his cords
maneuvering my every limb
 
I hang, by his dominating twine
my mind thus not my own
until I snip the facilitating line
once his strands of thread are unsewn  
 
Awaiting for his strings to be disintegrated
for his binds that own me, to disappear 
though curtains remain open, threads integrated 
I still, his marionette and he, my puppeteer.