anathema

anathema

beautiful bane

abiding, bewitching, agonizing

surrender my mindless sentiment

beloved

~ode to mon montreur~

please do not cut my strings, I want to forever be a marionette in your play

without you, the days are long when forced to never make a single sound

mouth may be made of wood and glue, but there are still beautiful words to say

eyes are as empty and dead as a corpse 6 feet below the ground

come back, you control the many complicated cords that animate me so

do not forget about the power that even still, you could have in your very hand

please do not cut my strings since you are now aware of my pathetic plight

it is you that makes me real as you move my bonds to and fro

drab and pale painted legs are hollow, without you they will not stand

but if you hold me in your capable arms I promise to live with all of my might