Strings in the Heat — A Dark Poem for Dale T. Doll

 

🖤 “Strings in the Heat” — A Dark Poem for Dale T. Doll

In the velvet rot of a forgotten stage, Where curtains sag like dying shade, A doll named Dale stirs in the gloom— A grin carved deep, a promise of doom.

Florida’s heat gnaws at his painted skin, Warping the wood, awakening the sin. He longs for shadows, cool and deep, Where broken puppets crawl and creep.

His strings, once golden, now drag like chains, Tangled with whispers, soaked in pain. He shuns the sun’s relentless blaze— A marionette made for darker days.

He stalks the boards with hollow feet, Searching for silence, cold and sweet. The sweltering air makes his fury swell— A puppet’s hatred, born in hell.

So beware the doll who flees the light, Who hunts for shade in dead of night. For Dale is bound by cursed decree— To sever the heat… before it severs me.