(Based on the Cherokee legend of Two Wolves)
My old man used to say, that
There are two wolves in our mind.
One is good and bright,
Another is evil and jealous of others' sight.
Which one prevails?
Which one do you become in the end?
It's the one you feed, he said.
One to which your thoughts you lend.
There's a narrow alley,
Between good and bad.
We are the ones who choose,
No wonder sometimes people go mad.
What defines good?
What defines evil?
The prospect of one's life?
Or the principles we live by?
Is it the situations, which turn aloof?
Or is it the time itself?
Deciding if one's good self or bad self,
That is in a perilous state.
The World is black and white.
But how to decide which side it is,
If one hasn't seen the difference?
Which side of scabbard do we see: silver or gold?
One man's tragedy is another's happiness
One man's loss is another's gain
Circle of life continues,
Through a death and another birth.
Mind confesses,
That it has a dark side.
Everyone does, isn't it?
Sins are committed.
Rules broken, wrongs happen.
Mends are made.
True conviction, blind beliefs.
Though there's no righteous sin, is there?
One's perspective of life changes,
Like the shapes in a kaleidoscope.
Like the sand dune,
Shrewd change it is.
The life and its ways always elude me
Even after these many years..
Still wondering which wolf it is,
That rules my mind.




