But a tool...
What is one but a tool to fate
The fiend is but a means of something working out
Just controlled by the palatte of defeat
The one who will not escape
The one that is but a part of the failure
Pathetically walking on, bobbing with thy strings
Nothing but the callous factor of a marred tradition
Foolishness is the hobgoblin's deviltry
Gabbed up by strings thinner than vision
By the eyes that can see and what they will do
Such is the design of the rack
From the box there is but a simple bit of malice
But you are but a tool.
Such is the heart of another Undertale themed poem! though it is short in its own form, this one I feel speaks out to the useless nature of giving in...more to the urges that blindly make one believe they are beyond all reason. This is but an urge and being steered and controlled by it, makes one nothing but a tool.
A tool of that feeling...that whim inside is in control, not you, the marionette on the move, doing the actions that lack purpose.
Please enjoy this short piece!