Mr. Marionetter of Fowls

I was nothing more than a floppable, feeble, sad little lump of bird remains when you met me.


A bird killer you were-
A bird killer you are.


And a bird will come to the sound of a call,
and your call has always been lethal.


You would extend your hand out like a branch,
promising comfort and consolation--
a gentle voice and a loving tune to
lure a set of full and strong feathers into your
vile cage.


It is there where you keep your birdies.
It is there where you decide when 
they eat
they sleep
they breathe
they dream
they love
they hurt.


Mr. Marionetter of fowls!
I don't want to sit in your Dogwood tree--
mine was far more fine and innocent
before it ever had anything to do with you,
So you can keep it, for now it will eventually die.


Mr. Marionetter of fowls!
I don't want to be the Rapture girl,
I would rather strangle myself (with them)
than ever receive your gift of pearls,
for you could never give a selfless gift.


Mr. Marionetter of fowls!
I refuse to let your fire in--
For it comes from the pits of hell with sin,
and I am a far more loving creature without
your manipulative definition of passion.


Mr. Marionetter of fowls!
I will never flutter in your ballroom,
It is a delusion created for your entertainment only-
And even if I should always and forever be lonely,
I'd rather sit alone than take your hand to dance.


Mr. Marionetter of fowls!
You sing to your prey of romance and devotion,
but then submerge them in your self absorbed ocean,
leaving them with your poison in their lungs!


Mr. Marionetter of fowls!
I will always be a Black Crow, that is certain--
But unlike you I shall never live behind a predator's curtain,
I shall never exploit little birds for my own gratification
I shall never take their bodies and words and turn them into desecration.


You can put me in a cage,
You can cut off my wings,
but you can't have my heart--
and all the truth that it sings,


You can run from all things,
You can create your own sky,
but it shall always break and tumble
If you continue to deceive and lie.


I was nothing more than a floppable, feeble, sad little lump of bird remains when you left me.


But in my heart, atleast I know I was always true.