The puppet master's past,
peace, regained at last,
but what's the cost of this?
There is something seriously a miss.
No longer black, no longer cold.
Like the fireplace, warm and bold,
he crosses into foreign land,
across the land of fire, and sand.
He passes barriers, and meets the wall,
he stands, stead fast, here, he will stall.
He's never been so close,
but still no reason to boast.
The closer he is, the thinner the ice,
stable like the stones, but I ponder the price.
This new hope couldn't come from nothing,
to gain so much, he had to give something.
Was it the bonds, the straps, the noose?
Now that she finally cut him loose.
Matter not the price, a safe distance you'll stay,
though someday, get closer? you may...