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La' Marionette

Poetry By: yuu shindemura
Other



just some poem, rather it's an oration. ;) enjoy reading!


Submitted:Feb 19, 2009    Reads: 203    Comments: 4    Likes: 3   


LA'MARIONETTE

An oration by Shindemura Yuu

This is love, I feel it for him

I feel so much for him, as I trust in him,

And I was very loyal to him,

His words caress my very soul.

My happiness is to make him happy, yet…

Why, oh why does it seem to be?

A marionette am I to him, this can be?

I'm well aware of this, yet I am blind.

Am I blinded to him?

Am I deaf when I listened to his voice?

Am I mute never to say no?

Yes, I am…because I am his marionette.

Every word he says I obey…

Every mind he speaks out, I acknowledged…

I am a puppet, never to speak, never to act freely

Yes, I am…because I love him.

He makes me obey his words, too far to be possible

Become a marionette, he says

I was seen as a living statue by people around me

Yet I didn't do anything, because I love him.

One instance, he lets me pick up broken glasses

My hands bleed and he was pleased

I felt not the pain of my hands, but on my heart

He treats me only like a lifeless marionette.

An instance, he lets me wear a bridal gown

To go and announce to all, I am his own

I obeyed him, and all the laughter in me were focused

But I carried it on all for him.

I have suffered cruelty, been in trash

All mimicry were cries of joys for those who witnessed

All mimicry were spikes of sorrows for me

But I still walked in this glorious path, as a marionette.

He continues to insult my very being

Saying he loves me, and I am his own

I am his toy, his marionette, his possession

For there would be all to be a marionette.

He only sees me as a puppet

A lifeless figure labeled as his personal collection

Am I still alive for him, am I still his beloved one?

He only sees me now as a marionette.

Inside my heart, I wanted wrath, but I can't

I couldn't bring that into him

I wanted him to be happy that I will do what he asks

All for this love, I became a marionette.

Tears…

Sorrow…

Unhappiness…

Mimicry…

I still am a marionette to him…

Yet, he is still my love.

I know all these were lies,

And no love from him actually existed

I was just his slave, the true side of his love

He only sees me as a marionette.

He went closer to me, wanted more mimicry

I shall not suffer no more! I declared!

With full force the knife went through his chest, his heart…

His eyes widened when my hands pulled the blade into him.

Now he is lying, pale, miserable and dead…

And in his own blood he bathed, lying in my arms

I only felt contentment from my heart in his corpse

Because I love him…as his marionette.

END





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