CHARACTERS & DOLLS

[...] and the Puppeteer of this world 

looked at me and said: 

Do you want to be a bird 
on the wire?

or 

just a simple doll...

tangled between the threads?

Poem by Celestine

    My little creature of divine

These threads are but your useless way.

To perish and to struggle?

A piece of work,
Might say...

I played it on the stubble.

 

You put my character on stage,

No longer wasted scene of love...

Do realize his blink of rage,

A hand in glove!

Oh, no... poor soul 

Do stop!

 It is your dream of man, 

Your little pawnshop.

 

This scene I played so many times

Don't crash into your hands of crimes.

Don't let this dream to pierce your soul

 You stepped over your only sole.

Now wait...

It's time for praying and for love

I made this world of...

I shall and I shall not deny

The comprehension of  my cirque.

It took me seven days to work

Not to decry,

My piece of work.

I lied myself by gratitude of man
For I regard my love 
To be the liaison of my plan.

He thought of me by playing in my yard,

And named me Puppeteer... 
Of the human bard.

And when I made this world,

My lovely cradle,

You took it all and changed
Into your label.

Those tears locked inside your pain

Made you believe I was to gain,

This world instead of my creation...

My simple plot from your damnation.

 It's time to make my dolls refrain,

From spreading out their truth of pain.

From leting out my characters

To perish...

When I became your doll to cherish.

Such pitty!

I'm ashamed.

It's not my piece of work
I blamed...

But just a joke that I disclaimed,

For I destroyed this dream.

I  sear...

Your world of dolls.
I'm not your Puppeteer!