Puppet

about living life as a puppet to my disease

pupils dilated, eyes full of darkness, blind
as macabre scenes flash through mind.
muscles tensed, ready to strike
there is no "flee", only fight.

parched from the inferno burning within
electric insects crawl upon skin
face twisted in malicious grin
too well known, the true meaning of sin.

daemon puppet, Devil's Bride
a stranger's words slither inside
Self, seemingly locked in cage
as Body continues this fearsome rage.

such disdain felt toward humanity
I'm held hostage by my insanity
me, it appears - yet, it isn't ME.
is what IS really what HAS to be?

is there some salve to put my mind at ease...
to cease being a puppet to this disease?