Hope

Her-"I am nothing
Not even ~Hope~
That dangles on a string.
And someone's hand wraps around my throat
Deciding when I will breathe."

Hope-"I am a puppet,
Puppet Hope,
And I dance at my master's hand.
She flicks her wrist and I go dancing
across these empty, barren lands.
She bends her elbow and I bow,
submitting to her, the most profound.
And when her fingers splay,
against my will
I fall on my face.
I am the Puppet Hope,
and if my master wishes it,
I am there to choke.
She can cut off all my air,
and I will smile lovingly
Because for her I live,
and for her I will die undoubtedly.
I am a puppet,
one filled with my own name,
and if she wishes it, I would become empty,
trading her sorrow for my hope.
Because I am her puppet...
Puppet Hope.
Master master,
Understand...
Hope can only come
to willing hands.

~The puppet isn't me. Literally, it is the idealism of hope itself. Hope only thrives where the master controls it and makes it dance.~