The dolls are not afraid to die

The dolls are not afraid to die
Are not afraid of pain
They have no feelings they have no fear
Though they don't have ability to lie
We make them by ourselves
But then they break free
The strings tear
Who cuts these strings?
As soon as they are cut they are no longer slaves
They are the kings
Like all hidden and forbidden
coming out from caves

The puppeteer who made a doll
Decided once to cut the strings
While he was watching it slowly fall
He didn't know which evil it brings
The surgery starts
All body parts
Detail by detail
Breaking free
Scary tale
The puppeteer who made a doll
Took it out of his sack
The shadow on the bloody wall
Growing behind his back
Cutting the strings like veins
Connecting it with his tired hand
To him it was a burden
To doll living force
This sudden cut like unpredictable divorce
No more feature to restrain
No control for the creature without brain
The strings finally fall on the floor
Wriggling like worms
The silhouette of doll in the door
A handmade living corpse
Coming out of the shade
The living dead hand made
The dance out of control