I am but a puppet hung by fate’s coarse noose
Only to kick and choke at my bound struggle

Fingers rub raw as they pulls at these strings
Each word is another breath I cannot take

The taut strings only bind me on a pendulum in the air
And blood bubbles between each tear filled gasp

For these strings are not of those of a hangman’s noose
But broken from my heart and holding me by the throat.