Free from the Puppets Strings

Tethered tight by unseen hands, I have the thrill to sheathe each strand.

All for the sake of escaping imprisonment, My intention afterwards is to free my brothers from the chords of dissonance.

Sadly, those threads have an astounding stronghold that their bodies bleed out till they're turned cold.

Sooner or later, their soulless vessels the parasocial clones controlled by unseen parasitical drones.

Draping them down with no freedom. Nothing more than their chants of judgment over-speaking my voice of atonement just so I can free them.

At this point let them shout curse and cry, I’ve found my voice—I won’t comply.