The Goon From Sicily. Poem by Mayur Varshne

I am the keeper of the family,
though disowned by the hegemony,
it is at the core of the entire hypocrisy.
It seems to be the apparent will of the Almighty,
it must continue for an eternity.

I sell alcohol, casinos I own, brothels I control,
I am businessman to the core.
I never compel, I do not swindle.
People like to indulge,
they love to gamble, they are slaves to lust.
I make huge profits, my wealth can only surge.

In the civilization of ours, law of the jungle prevails.
Might is the right, only the strong flourish.
The feeble can barely survive,
in due course, they must perish.
Ends are paramount, means are subordinate.
Survival is primary, principles are secondary.

When the dialogue fails,
the trigger must be pressed,
the impasse has to be broken.
The gun booms,
and there is perfect harmony,
the ensuing peace bears the testimony.
Few moments of gory are all I need to survive,
fear is what I need to thrive.
That is my modus operandi,
this is how I influence,
this is how I operate.
I value sincerity, I like mildness of manner,
I reward loyalty.
To protect the innocent is an obligation,
I take it as the word of the Almighty.
An eye for an eye is what I believe,
retribution is what I preach,
justice is all I seek.
Honour is invaluable, promises I keep.
Take my hand,
let me be your protector.
I do not want money,
all I will ever ask for is one favour.
Killing is a part of my legacy,
It is in my blood,
I am from the island of Sicily.
My name is Francesco Capone,
people call me GODFATHER.