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A Small Pearl
"The Game"
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Year One
Year Two
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Year Four

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Quick Pretention

Marionette

Writhing here beneath my grin
the fish wish to escape their bond
we claim the stars bestowed on them
within this great, celestial pond
Prophets of Chaos all name
our boundaries brash obscenities
and nothing but a helpless mind's
ill-concieved transparencies
Maybe so, and maybe not
the quest to know so just as hard
as what first brought me to this point
these tasks I now wish to discard
Whether by my own hands or
an unseen one's I cannot tell
and yet it's all seemed so contrived
A rythm from a poet's quill
I could've told you but I chose
to keep this burden within me
As loyalties corrode I mutter
I knew that this could be
Yet this knowledge holds no power
to release me from my grooves
A puppet who can see his strings
still cannot control how he moves