Come to me my puppet suite, I do hereby command. Move the ground with an enslaved feet and offer me your hand. A skeleton hand, a bony grip that cuts my blood away, I cannot flee, I cannot slip from you until the day. Some body made you cold and dark simply because they could, your eyes vacant of any spark your body carved from wood. His harsh wood bound by ancient twine and heavy as blank stone. It crushes me with fear I find with you therefore alone. Alone with plague, alone with shame you tread with silent grace. I tremble as you slur my name and now my form you trace. Your figure shadow in the shade I'm terrified and trance. You tell me not to be afraid you only want to dance. You dance the night away with me until the morning bride makes glassy eyes starved vacancy gleam with the soft first light. You trample and kill me over again you ask if I love you too. I know you are my only friend and I softly respond I do. You waltz and weave your eerie ways so do my soul entice. Now when you leave take me away with you that would be nice. At the bottom of the long dead lake draped an ancient algae green are all the memories you take all the sunrises I've seen. I pretend to be the puppeteer but really I'm the slave. Your twisted words are all I hear as you withhold my grave until I finally follow you there until you put me down with a single kiss you steal my air and with you my love I drown.