Puppeteer- a poem

I wrote this about a month back, when some forgotten emotion surged within me and against my full cognition maneuvered me to the computer keys just like a puppeteer. Though I can’t recall what or why this came to be, I’d like to share it anyway.

 

ii__1299746670_50-puppet-strings

Puppeteer

Rising like bile through my body

Silent and undetectable,

Is the migraine of the spirit

And the purge of my security:

A voice that threatens an appearance

In this masterful theater stage––

Cords dangling from the ceiling and maneuvered

By a puppeteer drunk on his tears.

But I am mute.

And the audience is blind.

My frown goes unnoticed in the darkness

That hugs my body like a cloak.

My limbs are forced here and there

Moving to the dialogue of someone

Else’s plot. Unrevised and turbulent.

And the will left inside of me shakes with it.

It is a work of madness

That plays on my agitation,

And in which the ropes that restrain me

Are of my own spineless design.

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