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Ode to the Puppet Master
Well placed strings have always laced fragile fates.
One single moment, a pluck or a tug,
Our lives end like a well timed 'noon date.
One by one all new humans' graves are dug.
All thanks to the vicious Puppet Master,
Mothers and fathers pay our early grave.
In all truth, we humans could die faster.
Grandmothers and grandfathers all rant'n rave
Just to meet the same dreadful, dying day.
Their lives end in a most terrible way.
Beg the master when seeing him stand there.
But please, be careful to avoid his strings.
He might just steal all of your precious air
With all of the string wrapping that he may bring.
Watch your step; you never know where he is.
He likes to hide in the pitch black nothing,
For all of the sanctioned shadows are his.
Enter if you dare, but he's not bluffing.
So now will you stray from the shadows 'round?
Light is better than being in the ground.
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