5. The Puppeteer

He climbs the winding stairs with shaking hands,
And sets the lamp alive to lure the lost,
The call unlocks across the dark expanse,
A golden guide worth any mortal cost.

A ship appears against the waving mist,
A stride of unknown tilting toward the shore,
But screaming splits the night with murder’s kiss,
As crewmen cut each other to the core.

Past demons from the deep inhabit hosts,
Sharp tears through flesh like burning breaks through thread,
What once were friends are now just hollow ghosts,
Puppeteer with strings that feed one head.

He welcomed way and called them to his shores —
Regret the hell now bound towards spreading more.