Puppets: Heroic and Villanous?

I direct your actions; I request and you gracefully oblige, my wonderful muse. My madness tears us together. Our love, the chains that bind and drive us apart.

I am enslaved to your expectations. I thirst for tears of happiness, and curse every disappointed sniff. I fall to you, and you throw my intentions to the flames.

We are each others puppets, pulling each others strings. Cutting control, waiting for the other to collapse on the stage, useless and abandoned. Insane love is the fuel behind our loving duels to the last bitter triumph.

I cut my own strings. I stand on my own and smile, shaking under the weight of my own decisions. I free you. But you are still bound by your own intentions. Cry all you want my puppet, I can't cut you from your own strings.

I am a reality altering entity, stronger than any drug, more addictive than any thought, more frightening than any nightmare, more lovely than a thousand summer days, and more discordant than the crash of a thousand minds, arguing for dominance. More beautiful, in thought, action, and word, than any hypnotic poet.