The curtains open,
audience hushed,
and there, before them stands
a drunken puppet, wielding knife
in clenched and bloodied hand.
The drunken marionette now totters
slowly 'cross the stage,
yet, unbeknownst to all that watch,
that drunken heart bleeds rage.
The puppet speaks,with tearful eye,
"What future have I now?
A drug-filled, hopeless, death charade
until that final bow."
"Did I once control my strings,
and smiling, make them dance?
If so, then that was years ago,
a cold, long-dead romance."
The weeping puppet draws his blade
with care 'cross wooden wrist,
and as he bleeds, the plot adheres
to final, tragic twist.
Then finally, the Hell-bound doll
with fury, stabs his heart
and thus completes a bloody end
to life and tragic part.