Puppet Master (A horror story)

She watches them from day to day.
Forced in moments they don't know.
In continuous ruts of mediocre lives.
What they didn't know lays behind the scenes.
Watch them play.

Mere puppets of a grand master.
She watches as he pulls the strings.
They jerk in their moments.
Performing a sickening dance.
Twisting faster and faster.

She watches the strings on her own hands.
They jerk to the music that is life.
Pulling her along with the perverse dance.
Dragging her from each moment.
Everyone misunderstands.

She watches, helpless to do anything.
The puppet master grins a vicious grin.
Holding scissors in his hand, he cuts three strings.
A broken body falls lifeless onto the floor.
Listen to the hollow ring.

She watches as no one turns a head.
No neck is free from their own bondage.
The obscene dance continues.
One less life to be caught in tangles.
One more dead.

She tries to scream.
But her mouth is merely painted on.
They must see what monster controls them.
Someone must be able to help.
But no one, it would seem.

She sees the smile grow once more.
The scissors gleam brightly in the light.
Three more strings are cut.
She is helpless once again.
Her own body hits the floor.