You, the ship of Theaseus

With the history of a blank page,
The ship set its sails for the first time.
On board with Theaseus were a few Athenians,
Who were to sail for glory,
And to earn a dime.

Songs with their names would echo they thought,
Indeed it happened with the treasures they brought.
But in every travel the ship lost a hand,
And it was replaced by a stronger by a stronger man,
And every broken piece of wood was replaced with a new plank.

In no time the names from the songs changed,
The broken planks were forgotten.
All the old sails sank in Mediterranean,
Were replaced by new cotton.

The glory chasing purpose transformed to trade.
What will happen to its name,
What will be the ships fate!
Was it Theaseus or the crew,
Or was it the purpose that held it all together.
Or is it the travel of time the ship saw,
That will make it unique forever.

Minding my own belief.

Life is a mere conflict of believes,

Both from the inside and the outside.

You see,

The Christians went on the crusades,

Only for their faith, they believed to be right.

It was inner conflict that revealed to them,

True nature of things in plain sight.

 

The wheel of dharma turned when,

Ashoka conquered himself and not the world.

Spreading his belief in peace that all understood,

He became a great one.

 

The few years we are here on the planet,

I think should not be wasted,

Fighting against someone’s believe,

Or Defending the truth you never tasted.

 

I feel kant was right

To criticise, the fight plato and aristotal begun.

He said,

To see knowledge in its true form,

All the dogmas first need to be done.

 

To untangle your own wool,

Rather than poking what your neighbour has spun.

Will restore upon you a better clearity,

And a life that would be fun.

 

The fortune teller

Shadows moving West to East,

and faces flowing like a stream.

Someone sitting across the road,

lost in dreams.

With a stick in his hand and

A coin in pocket,

He wants to change the world.

With a blurry vision and foggy eyes,

he looks at the sun.

Shoots at strangers with his stick,

Pretending it’s a gun.

Thought he was a fortune teller,

and that he could see through.

By tossing a coin he decides, for his dreams to come true.

With many thoughts and a few dreams,

confused and lost he seemed.

Thinking was it gold, was it peace

or was it love, of that he dreamt.

 

Explorer I was supposed to be..

I want no North

I want no South,

no east i want, nor west.

Give me back the land we roamed upon,

the seas we traveled and it would be the best.

 

Take back your nations

And all your boundaries,

with all the fences that came for free.

Take back your false center of powers,

and all your concrete money trees.

 

Just give me back the world Homer talks about.

And the explorer I was supposed to be.