I have a closet full of shadow puppets
They're funny
Don't you think?
Cuz even though I call them puppets
They're controlling me

Look at them
And you might laugh
Because they look asleep
But if you laugh
You ignite the wrath
Of what lies underneath
Their marble eyes
Like a void black hole
But stare at them
You shouldn't dare
Because from a single meaningless glare
They'll come to life
They'll take your soul
They'll eat you alive
They'll eat you whole

Because these are my shadow puppets
And they live inside my attic
But climb on up
And visit too much
And they'll turn your thoughts to static
They dress themselves in all black
But the fact is
They're not trying to hide
The fact is
If you get close enough
They'll lure you inside

Because these are my shadow puppets
And they live inside my basement
But saying that they aren't alive
Would be an untrue statement
Wooden dummies --
They might look
Hollow
Empty
Broken
Just don't be fooled by their vacantness
Take heed of what I've spoken
And if you enter the malicious trap
Just be aware
You won't come back

Because these are my shadow puppets
And they live on a string
But please don't try and make them dance
They're not as funny as you think
And if you accidentally tangle them
Or wrap their threads around their necks
You'll make them quite unhappy
And I assure you
You'll be next

Because these are the shadow puppets
And they're closing in on you
Let them inside
And you will find
They stick to you like glue
One tap on your bedroom door
Two more from the basement --
They're under your floor
Three extra knocks
From inside your wall
But there's more
No
That's not all
Four bangs from above
They're in the attic
Five pounds in your room
Go check the closet
Watch them creep in through your windows
Let them slip inside your halls
Let them dance up on your ceiling
Let them slink and let them crawl
Let them waltz into your dreams
Let them sleep inside your bed
Let them laugh when they hear you scream
“Oh, I WISH THAT I WAS DEAD!”

...

You have a closet full of shadow puppets
Dormant
Inside your room
Try not to wake them up too often
They surely want your doom

Because these are your shadow puppets
And they live inside your head
It's funny that you call them puppets
When it's you
Hanging by a thread.

People suspended like puppets from the medicine
Everyone can feel their strings
Willed by the hands of a creator
Or guarded by spirits from centuries of worship

Look where we dance
Look at how we smile for a shared guess
Wonder how you sleep?
Make yourself an offer for your children
You can't give up the poison
Your neighbor has a fetish
How many strings hold you up?

It's a heart on world with my sleeve steadily exposed
A life line on a call line, dial 888 to be controlled
Puppets on a string to compose this household
The happier we'll be the more we're enclosed

       Smaller spaces to lengthen the gap
       Encircling our inner self control
       Consuming what's left of the demons
       Trying to get a refund on our soul
      
Love changes colors like a rhyme
Smooth and easy
Eyes like the darkness of time
Slow and steady

Yet we're still not ready for the fight
Insanity walks through the door
And just when the time is right
Our beliefs slowly melt into the floor

Children play with puppets,
little rag dolls with yarn hair and felt dresses.
Their voice morph to characters,
yet their giggles remain the same.

Children play with puppets,
living the life they've always dreamed of.
Through cardboard sets and imagination,
the puppets explore the world.

Children play with puppets,
and earn a false sense of freedom.
Their words and actions are not their own,
though little to their knowledge.

Children play with puppets,
until those puppets wear thin.
They're left in dust, have lost the trust,
of their controlling child puppeteer.

The beating heart in darkness took shape..
It was her..
The one we were looking for..
Her eyes were the color of everything..
They were the color of me...
She then swam through darkness out of the green lit pond..
As I sank and sank in its deep waters..

Her heart was like a falling star.. Only this star was not falling, it was slowly rising.. I was sinking to the bottom of this strange like darkness in a world of light.  Strange to say but everything was getting darker and darker in this abyss of darkness.  Right before I lost consciousness I saw a pale white light above..  I could hear my heartbeat..  It was getting slower and slower..  Just the thought of her being free made me smile one last time..  One last time for good hope..  I somehow knew it was the right thing to free darkness.  I felt myself drifting away..  The last thing I remember was my little brother and I making shadow puppets on the wall.. We stayed up past midnight laughing at our shadow puppets..

The strings of perfection,
Pierced into the flesh.
Unable to move,
Unable to stretch.
The Goal seems so far apart.
Death plays the easier part.

She is dead,
Now I am free;
She had a will
And her eyes on me.
Her will had strings,
But can't you see,
I tore her strings
And I broke free...

She fought me hard,
But still she fell;
She kept me in,
While I gave her hell.
I was her nightmare
She'd never tell;
As weak she was,
She loved him well.

Her will is dead,
And so is she;
The one she protected,
Is no more free--
The one she hid,
Is now exposed;
The one she loved,
Will be disposed.

It cannot be,
She shares my stage;
She cheated death,
And turned the page--
She's alive inside,
Fighting the wars I wage;
She did not die,
*She's crying in the birdcage...