The Master
Holds the strings in hand,
Makes the puppet
Dance before the King.
The Jester
At his side
Watches,
Eyes alight with love.
He sees
The sorrow
Behind her painted smile.
He feels
The pain in her heart
From a life of control.
He knows
How she longs to be free,
Yet she is not strong enough.
He waits,
The Master sleeps
And the Jester approaches
His stringed love,
Alone in her cage,
Motionless without her master.
He draws
His blade of liberation,
Cuts the strings
That held her captive
For so long.
Cradling her in his arms
He looks into her eyes.
So sad,
Her heart
Bears the scars of many trials.
It is too broken
To move her body.
Turning the blade on himself,
The Jester opens his chest
Removes his own heart
And places it
In her weakened puppet form.
Her eyes
Begin to glow
With sweet new life.
The Jester’s heart
Pumps strong
Making her real.
She stirs to life in his arms.
As she returns his gaze
He says
“My love
has set you free”.
Their lips embrace
In a kiss
That lasts a lifetime.
With nothing left to give
The Jester sinks to the floor
In peaceful death.
As she kneels beside him
She weeps
Real tears
Rolling down to her chest
Where the Jester’s heart
Still beats within her
Forever and always.

A poetic response by JP Kershner.