The Song of the Crown

Remember those times when you hold on to an ideal, a principle in life, and that one principle that you hold on to decides almost everything you do, say, and think? Its strange, the ways of nature. There is an ongoing war within us. And as time takes us through different experiences of life, we realise how childish we were, how unreal an image of the world we had... and new ideals take over

There is no one perspective to the world. Its as real as a dream we are forced to see. It is by being a witness to change that we become wise...

The Song of the Crown

In the warfield beheaded in three,
The third his Crown, his pride, his mind
In sea sanguine that trust conjured
The reign was done, and all swords dead.

Kin he loved, as treasure held
And land to him, mother beloved.
At evil turns Time passed him by,
Had to rise against the blood.

Then they spoke, a thousand bows
And arrows and swords they swirled
As drupes did heads kiss and bounce.
As cloth shall the Crown wear men.

Indeed, Aye, the crown shall live,
Cleansed of blood and wiser more
And just, I wish, until its new cloth shall lie,
In the warfield beheaded in three.

-Karunakaran TK