Poem By Ravi Panamanna
Once a lion, a bull fighter,
An alcoholic, boorish oftentimes.
A flirt, an outspoken character,
An adventurer, an unbridled horse.
Undoubtedly a prolific producer
A master craftsman of words,
A gifted writer, to his credit
Many accolades including the Nobel Prize.
But, towards the end
Under the claws of phobias,
With paranoid delusions,
Wreck and rummage he ended.
'Tax deadlines are not met,
FBI is hiding behind every door.
Castro's people are smelling around
Writing becomes an uphill task'.
Penniless he imagined
Pauper and bankrupt he affirmed.
Knocks he often feared
All the world he felt a conceit!
Thus his delusions continued
Mayo Clinic he finally reached.
Many shock treatment sessions he withstood,
A few attempts of suicide also followed.
A cadaverous frame he reduced
A bundle of nerves he turned.
Innate calls ordained
Only echoes now remained.
But he succeeded at last
He finally blew out with a blast.
With a couple of shots
The fighter fought out his fate.
For whom the bell finally did toll?
Where did the brave Santiago finally sink?
'Man can be destroyed but not defeated'
Which endorsed this quote?
His pen, life or the trigger of the gun?
04th August 2017.