I Hate Marionettes in the Dark

Smiling faces accompany lifeless bodies
Twirling in the dark

Miniature people dangling from the rafters
Waiting in predatory anticipation

Evil little demons in pretty little outfits
With a button nose and razor sharp teeth

Hinged mouths whisper silent words of death
And painted eyes decipher your fate

Tiny hands grip your neck in passing
While dagger like fingers slash your throat

Childish laughter is the last thing you hear
From the soulless wooden corpse

As you bleed out on the dusty floor
Of the Puppet Master’s basement

This reason and this reason alone
Is why I hate marionettes in the dark