Shadows flicker on Krat’s marble spine,
A puppet wakes with a promise to find
His maker’s heart, stitched with glowing Ergo,
Yet every step hums with a buried lie.

Rail tracks whisper secrets of fractured souls,
Gemini’s cricket chirps in haunted holes,
Each truth untold grows the nose of his shade,
Reality warps where the Covenant fades.

From Cathedral pews to the Opera’s fall,
He fights Carcasses—voices echo the call,
Red Fox and Black Cat prowl his doubt,
He lies to survive, but feels more devout.

Ashen heart, you pulse with borrowed fire,
Puppet’s will or human desire?
To lie is to breathe, to mask a spark,
In Krat’s cold bones lies light in the dark.

Broken gears hum with every choice,
His fractured soul begins to voice:
“I want to feel—beyond this wood and steel,”
Each whispered lie is power to heal.

The hotel halls resound with ghostly plea,
Sophia's eyes plead: “Come rescue me.”
He steels his limbs with luminous lies,
Yet softened steel betrays no disguise.

Geppetto’s face in stained-glass eyes,
“Precious child” echoes through broken skies,
He holds a heart not his own to give –
Choice unspools: bend or truly live.

Nameless puppet stirs in that silent chest,
Paracelsus waits beyond the test,
Option to die, to give, to rise,
Truth and falsehood dance in disguise.

Ashen heart, you pulse with borrowed fire,
Puppet’s will or human desire?
To lie is to breathe, to mask a spark,
In Krat’s cold bones lies light in the dark.

Broken gears hum with every choice,
His fractured soul begins to voice:
“I want to feel—beyond this wood and steel,”
Each whispered lie is power to heal.

Eyes grow dim where memories fade,
Carlo’s ghost in a mechanical shade,
Is he the boy who once smiled in sun,
Or a puppet bound unless a lie is spun?

He gave or withheld the crimson heart,
A parable of fatherly art,
If he lies, he becomes human made,
Yet in truth, his soul may cascade.

Post-credits whisper—Paracelsus smiles,
His “new humanity” born of trials,
Dorothy scattered in ruby-glow,
P stands between myth and what we know.

Ashen heart, you pulse with borrowed fire,
Puppet’s will or human desire?
To lie is to breathe, to mask a spark,
In Krat’s cold bones lies light in the dark.

Broken gears hum with every choice,
His fractured soul begins to voice:
“I want to feel—beyond this wood and steel,”
Each whispered lie is power to heal.

“Were you trying to destroy Carlo’s heart?”
Geppetto’s voice, sorrows torn apart.
P breathes: a tear in metal and bone—
Finally alive, at last, his own...

To Tell a Lie - Pinocchio

I write, i direct, i decide, it simply generates. Ai song maker for fun an my own enjoyment, you don't have to like it :)

To Tell a Lie - Pinocchio

KnightKakashi