There he lies a bare truth.
A Spent life, pauper in full.
A glare of myth just vanished.
leaving a mystic bubble behind.
Behind veil of mist he danced,
blaring out his throat in rhythm.
Moon walking to soul of music,
he stretched hands hugging lives.
Far and wide he trotted globe,
wearing rainbow over his head.
A crown of jewels he wore,
rocking and popping his crowd.
Dressed in soap suds he played,
melting his body with music.
Among roars and claps of fans,
he lived floating a tinsel life.
A soul full of soul full melodies,
streamed out of his frail frame.
Leaning world, bowled over him.
making him a pet chameleon.
One day he fell off the rostrum.
litter his skeleton all around
His composure ridiculed cruelly,
smearing his vanity with shame
In a coffin of images he will lived
singing a melancholy to soul.
We place a wreath of our love,
Still; feeling touch of his feet in our hearts.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
lovely poem to the king of Pop (do read mine The Fever of Terrorism) -10 anjali