I am the puppet,
You are the puppeteer,
With fate and destiny as my strings,
And life as the play.
The requiem plays,
Each note, each move,
But no one sees the tears,
No one hears the cry.
I strut on stage,
From step to step,
The music start slow,
My steps are light and soft,
Then with haste and weight.
At the peak of thought,
One by one, my strings snap,
Till I fall without a sound,
Every note, every move,
For this moment, my end.
The song ends,
The crowd cheers,
The puppeteer bows,
The curtains fall,
And so ends my story,
The sad puppet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem