The Hand Behind the Curtain

Wanted to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who has liked and followed this blog. I have over 100 of the first across my various posts and poems, and just over 30 of the second. It’s encouraging to know people are actually stumbling onto this little project of mine and enjoying it enough to want to see the updates. Again, THANK YOU! šŸ˜€

With that said, today’s poem is not really an RP poem. It was just kind of the collection of words that came to mind as I was letting my thoughts wander this morning. I see no reason that it couldn’t be used in an RP setting, however, so I’m sharing it here. Enjoy!

The Hand Behind the Curtain

Whose is the hand behind the curtain?
Drawing strings for all the marionettes?
Whose is the mind that knows for certain
What may pass and what may birth regrets?

What wouldn’t I give to know what they know?
What wouldn’t I lose just to make it so?
And then in all my knowing grace
What might I do to preserve this place?

Whose is the time that keeps on passing?
Slipping idly by Destiny’s altar?
Taking no heed of fears which here are massing?
For time, like fate, has no way to falter…

What wouldn’t I give just to have that time?
What wouldn’t I lose of reason or rhyme?
And then with my eternal youth
What might I do in pursuit of the truth?

Dreams, messages born in dreams,
Messages brought on wings
Of thought and fancy true

Seams, life’s barriers bared in seams,
Seams which were sewn by kings
In days now gone and through…

What wouldn’t I give just to have that time?
What wouldn’t I lose of reason or rhyme?
And then with my eternal youth
What might I do in pursuit of the truth?

Whose is the hand behind the curtain?
Drawing strings for all the marionettes?
Whose is the mind that knows for certain
What may pass and what may birth regrets?

Are we but actors upon the stage?
Figments of minds matured with age?
Are we but visions of what might be
In a world of their fantasy?

Let us break from the mold
Let us cast our likeness in gold
And know the wealth of a thousand thousand kings

Let us turn out the cold
And let us enjoy our fold
And may we witness the dawn of a thousand springs

But still there remains for we
A curtain we cannot see
A hand drawing puppet strings so cheerfully

We may forget these things
And then be caught up in strings
That we fall to all too tearfully

Whooooose…
….is the hand behind the curtain?

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