Strings Upon The Mind

Strings Upon The Mind

Who holds the strings above us?

Who moves the quiet fingers?

There are whispers behind thought,

And shadows behind choice.

A man walks thinking he is free,

as something pulls his shoulders.

A silent tug upon his will,

Guiding each uncertain step.

We speak of freedom proudly,

Of minds that stand alone.

Yet how often are we guided,

By unseen hands of influence?

Voices from the past remain,

Echoing inside the skull.

A parent, a teacher, a wound,

All tightening invisible cords.

The world itself is a puppeteer,

With promises, fears, and commands.

Pulling at the corners of thought,

Until we bow without knowing.

But a mind can wake from strings,

If courage dares to look above.

If the heart questions the pull,

And listens for its own truth.

For the greatest strength of all,

Is the will that breaks the thread.

To stand beneath an open sky,

And move by one’s own breath.

So ask yourself quietly tonight,

Who moves the steps you take?

Is it fear, or is it freedom,

Holding the strings of your mind?

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