The curtain rises.
The sudden flash of light blinds us.
Then we realize that
It puts words in our mouth.
It shields our heart.
It gives us wings to fly higher.
It makes us beautiful.
It becomes our greed.
It makes us an addict.
It becomes our life.
Curtains fall down.
There is complete darkness.
We cannot see but can feel it.
It is just behind us, infront of us, below us, beside us, above us and in us.
We fly higher.
To a place that we have never been to.
So high that everthing below us seems smaller,
Without life and without value.
Slowly we come down.
We rest and comfort ourselves.
But the mirror across the room draws us nigh.
It wispers and tells us,
'You are beautiful, you are flawless'
We want to see the relection forever.
But like every fragile thing,
The pieces shatter everywhere,
Some hurting us,
Some hurting the person beside us.
There is no life in us.
Power takes our soul.
It makes our bodies like dolls, for its puppet show,
Holding us just by a single thread in its hand.
Power is cunning.
Power is dark.
Be aware, its always has a mark.