The Puppeteer

By Samarth Bhatkar

(The lights flash, the curtains are drawn open followed by loud cheers and screams)

Act I: Threads of Fate:

She leaped on stage, dancing like a swan with threads I could not see,

Loud cheers and applause for a marionette that swayed but was never free.

I transported myself into her world to join her shadowed art –

She was never mine to start.

Act II: Painted Smiles:

Her smiles were rehearsed a million times, her movements intricately planned,

Someone invisible behind the scenes grinning at a puppet with no hands.

Million scars on my fingers because I thought the script was ours to bend –

She was never mine to pretend.

Act III: Fractured Stage:

The strings tangled, the knots grew tight and overtime the stage burnt cold,

I sold old gold, taking hold but was decontrolled and then trolled.

I burnt the midnight oil in an attempt to stitch what time betrayed –

She was never mine to save.

Act IV: Curtain of Silence:

The act was over, the curtains were closed and eventually her shadow fled,

The stage was my heart as hollow as it could get, the echo was my blood that bled.

The show was done, the crowd was gone and then the silence swore –

She was never mine, no more. 

By Samarth Bhatkar