Puppets.

So, it’s been ages since I penned a poem. sometime,s we really wait for the perfect inspiration to come along. This time, it came in the shape of the beautiful picture taken in the golden city, Jaisalmer. As much as I want to take credits for this beauty, this one belongs to dear friend Bhavya who is as blessed with words as he is with his photographs. Visit him at his blog here.

I really think we are nothing but puppets who simply plays the tunes, life has picked for us.

XXX

Inside her head
She plays various roles
She smiles bright
Even with darkness inside
We’re puppets playing
The game of life
She met too many souls
Inside her heart, she let them in
Yet a part was always kept
Locked within
She waited to meet
The one who would see
The insides of her heart
Could flowers grow in lands
That had been barren for long?
She wondered if there was more
To share and say
Or all her life, she would remain
Puppets playing
The game of life
Love touched her once
Poetry was stirred
Her words wed his words
Together they strummed
A chord so melodious
A flower finally bloomed
In the barren land
She let down her guard
Allowed someone inside
Was this too a game
Life often played
She wanted to believe
She wasn’t another puppet
Just playing her part
She wanted this to count
She wished it would last
She wondered if the stars
Would stay together or apart
A hundred questions in her fat eyes
Brimming with doubt, mystery inside!
She stares at the blue, endless sky
Contemplating what in her fate resides
The ones we love and the ones we leave
Stories that fulfil and the ones that stay incomplete
Are we all puppets
Playing the game of life?
Is everything predestined?
Is she fated to resign?
The poem comes to an end
But the show goes on
The puppet smiles
Because in the game of life
We do what is destined
Enveloped in tears and smiles
Her little heart breaks
As she is haunted by the goodbye
That shall one day break
This beautiful lullaby
We’re the puppets playing
The game of life!