Forever yours, I am the faithful marionette
but this love has nowhere to go but downhill; my heart, off the bluff, shall plummet as I am manipulated and moved without a will
Made out of wood with a shiny, clear varnish,
rounded silver joints and the finest of silk cords, even the toughest feats I will accomplish lest I become an emotionless corpse
I put on shows every day without fail,
entertaining the children on a stage with stories of mad men, the tallest of tales while I long to escape the bars of my cage
I love you, my master – is that so bad?
This one-sided, futile love is nothing but a curse. One day, in the future, my strings will feebly snap; I’ll be thrown out, known as wood without a worth.
I’ll be replaced with another doll—
the subject of your affections anew— so the inevitable I shall stall and continue as if I haven’t a clue.
In another life we’ll meet
we’ll be happy and together we’ll be; until then, I’m incomplete but I’ll survive with my feeble fantasy.
Master, I’ll wait for you, so please
don’t run off with another I’ll wait under our weeping willow tree so won’t you stay with me forever?