The lad woke up, to a maze, of daze
With a fist, of white sin, and a dream
Not a kite, this time, but destiny’s chase
At the cost of blood, for a fief, to redeem!
And his sin, did sell, at the price of fear
As Pablo rose, from the grave, of dearth
To the zenith, of might, a mogul mutineer
Thus the misery’s child, did redeem, his birth!
Who traded death, doled-out, charity too!
State’s outlaw, with a messiah’s face
Thru castles, prisons, folks’ hearts, Pablo!
Lost to Escobar, in the mad rat-race!
His end outstripped, his life’s mystique
In rubble lay, Cocaine-King, dead-broke
Who sowed in fear, hope’s lasting streak
The Man, Whose Life, Was A Puff Of Smoke!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra