'Mind Games'' Poem by ashok jadhav

(A figure paces restlessly, hands clenching and releasing, eyes darting as if chasing invisible shadows.)

Mind games…
Do you know what they do?
They slip into your skull like smoke,
Filling the spaces you thought were yours alone.
They whisper doubt… always doubt,
And suddenly the ground beneath your thoughts
Is not solid—it shifts, it falters, it betrays.
You think you're clever, don't you?
You think you're the player, the strategist, the one in control.
But no…
I am the one who lives inside the fallout of your games,
Piecing together what is truth, what is lie,
What is you and what is me.
And it's exhausting.
It's a war without weapons,
A battlefield made of hours and sleepless nights.
You push, I pull; I resist, you invade.
It is endless, invisible, unforgiving.
Yet… somehow, in the chaos, I endure.
I see the strings you hide, the tricks you pretend are invisible,
And I laugh—quietly, under my breath—
Because the mind may be your battlefield,
But it is also mine.
And one day, the games will end,
Not with your victory, but with your own defeat.
Mind games…
Play all you want.
I am awake.
And I will not be moved.