Tragic End Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

King of kings and most beloved star Pop,
We lost forever a man in you and high hope,
It was not easy for black to walk on rope,
You lost no courage and preferred slope,

For rising high, you paid so dearly,
Whites were fooled so cleverly,
Rose to the top at an early age,
Bonded music free from closed cage,

Transformation from black to complete white,
Hard work from morning day till late night,
Nothing was coming to you by way of right,
You chose to face and offered a fight,

Daily shows with improvement in music,
Money returns plenty but killed magic,
Fighting with odds and struggle heroic,
Fame, prestige, name all proved toxic,

Hours and hours you danced on floor,
Ships aground and never reached shore,
Fame and money blinded with rage,
Global name with golden ink on page,

World and humanity benefited a lot,
Always in limelight and news spot,
Surrounded by celebrities and rich,
Going away and away from Poor’s reach,

Your body could stand no more strain,
It was not less than slain,
World did not bother and only blamed,
Door shut and avenues slammed,

You remained only body of corpse,
Skin disappeared with body collapse,
No food but drugs and only injections,
You lay on bed without any projection,

World may remember you as global artist,
Laying wreath and floral tribute insist,
Still it is mystery and doubts persist,
World at large must fear and desist,

His soul will hound us for time to come,
It is for sure no other soul will descend and become,
Earnestly pray for his soul to rest in peace,
Let him sing his songs and enjoy at ease