“Wayang” — A Poem
On the stage of theatre, we stand tall,
As puppets trapped within the unspoken thrall.
The puppeteer's fate controls our stride,
We dance in the cadence of a preordained guide.
We assume roles bestowed upon our form,
Like valiant Rama or lustful Rahwana in the storm.
Sometimes as victorious heroes we thrive,
Sometimes as tearful souls, unaware of our drive.
Encased in a silent box, an eerie void,
Time erodes destinies, leaving them destroyed.
Powerless, we cannot alter our path's bend,
The puppeteer's whims dictate, we're just a means to an end.
No Gatotkaca can transform into Bagong's guise,
No Manikmaya becomes Togok, its essence defies.
Drupadi never wedded to deceitful Durna's name,
Arjuna never violated Petruk in his fame.
Embrace the roles assigned, bitter or sweet,
Whether kings reigning high or falsehood's deceit.
Shall we revel as regal beings on the stage?
Or deceivers, burdened with remorse in our cage?
Stories pay no heed to our existence's plea,
Other characters mere backdrops, barely to see.
Like us, they too are trapped by the puppeteer's sway,
Mere puppets in a grand theatre, unable to have their say.
This poem is an adaptation of the late Rusdi Mathari’s writings.
