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The Marionette Dance

The floorboards send an unnerving creak as she descends down the stairway. Her pupils have no focus, a dusty stare into void. The energy within, proceeds a fluidity that once been, and assists to provide function. The hinges break, wheels relocate, into a forward direction, but the muddied map is hard to decipher. Attached strings to her brain, doesn’t cause too much pain, instead a loss of jurisdiction. Foot after foot, she is gently sliding upon each step. The walls to her periphery, send images of torture, but cannot be seen with the naked eye. Instead the heart is at anguish, without a solitary notice, but she continues to stride along. The railing is shattered, as her limbs are wound into knots, set sprawling to the end of her journey. Beaten and reckless, too bad this isn’t the end yet, her body hangs downward in defeat.
A hand reaches out, a form of security or comfort seems to appear, in this gruesome situation. The flesh makes constant, if only for a second, and crashes the frail creature beneath. No vital signs of life, emit into strife, and he walks away into the sunshine of victory.





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