They say it was an uppercut
The left hook that jammed and stabbed
The blunt log that broke and cracked
The fall that cracked his head
The cerebral that denied his strength
The character and charisma that brought the directions
The cry that convinced many
The gossip and rumor that floated
The stories that buzzed
Other prefer to call it a mafia-rider rated operation
The handsome ransom across the coastline
The operation 1387 that flopped, the co-operation that was socked
Critically planned and monitored and yet unprofessionally hatched
As fear, blame took the better part
As the arrows of betrayal stabbed the heart
Creating a hollow of skepticism, fanaticism, doubt
As we sail aboat and afloat
For it’s with love from the waters that we bask into the sun
Reading and digesting the tides of times, thee impending floods
The container that no longer holds
All is but part of the show
As we hurry to bury the young, fresh beauty
With shame and pride we cry
Mourning and groaning to the lost wealth, friend, talent
‘For six weeks into your will I hibernate
Waiting and watching in these blue covers
Maybe the waves have insulted the heavy floating badge
Else the tides are favorable for the hungry angry pirate across the inland
Still we laugh through the sun, clapping to the less fancied humor
A bitter pill to swallow and yet a better lesson digested
All is but part of the show
As we preserve culture, laying wreaths in silence
