We're just Puppets to the invisible hands!

We smile as he pulls the ropes
Attached to our facial muscles.
In the same way we cry!
Oceans are around but we cannot taste
A dropp of water.
Sky is high and instead of wings
Only the feeble hands.
No solace at all and only in the burial grounds
We rest in peace to our own consent
As he has taken back our ropes
And no more movements!

* Truth is bitter like the bedridden man who swallows an elixir to get rid of steely death!