We are puppets tied to strings,
Controlled by a puppeteer,
Life is what each one calls,
He governs the entire cluster.
The puppets earn him his bread,
But has to follow some rules,
A balance necessarily followed,
He is a victim of his own rules.
His friends are death and time,
Who help him in his play,
Generation, evolution and destruction,
Unavoidable phenomena in every way.
He calls us ‘being’, his bread winners,
And endows power upon each one,
To chose a role of our own,
And maintain a flow in the long run.
Obsession of power envelopes his puppets,
Some even try to defy his laws,
Extending their power to the zenith,
Still unable to escape his claws.
He is invincible for any single puppet,
Even a majority may prove less,
Only a puppet who can see the larger picture,
Realizes, against life, he is always helpless.
