Mindless puppets adhering
to rules of irrelevance.
Fitting to their persona
as they sway to the melody.
A predictable performance
on unstable ground.
The strings controlled
by an unseen consciousness.
The illusion of comfort
curtains the oblivious life.
The projected hues accepted
without a demur.
A round of applause
reverberates the platform.
Trapdoors open,
erasing the short-lived delight.
Down the puppets sink
into the depths of reality.
It was all a rehearsal
prior to the ultimate show
Gopika Pramod
We are part of a race with undefined rules towards the unknown, where the uncertainty is the only certainty.
Thankyou so much! Yes I drew them too 😄
I really like the doodles you use with the poems, very curious, do you make them yourself? 🤩
Thank you
Woww! That’s a really good interpretation 💕
Perhaps we are puppets in hands of GOD