The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

A man, a mastermind, a man of no remorse

Cruelty in his veins and cold frost in his gaze

The string bender, the man with nothing left to lose

He is the man behind the curtain veil at every sadistic play



He is the puppeteer and you are the victim on the string

You’ll dance for him at his command and never know a thing

Cold ambition in his mind, and malice in his heart of black

A man of endless knowledge and sinister to react



The purity of human life means nothing to this mysterious man

Cunning and deceptive always awaiting fate with a master plan

Humans are nothing but objects to be observed, dissected and repaired

He knows no concept of failure or limitation and knows nothing of love or care



His face expressionless, and a voice of no inflection

Emotion nonexistent in his heartless sense of hell

He is the puppetmaster, and the one who decides your fate

This world is doomed under his hand, and he knows this well





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