Pablito Poem by Sophie Allyah

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall
gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?
- Mark 8: 36


To obtain peace is to create war
It left many people an enduring scar
A madness only a madman would go far
Only Pablo, Don Pablo Escobar! —

Gripping the humiliation of injustice
Executed not by verbal or by fist
But by death in his own way of justice
He presented the Grim Reaper of his menace

In the wake of his disposition
The quietus scent became regular in the air
Still, he had the posture on aggravation
On both sides like spitting in the face of fear

Though he hides among shadows
With soulless wards of shallow
A Death's harbinger on the throne
The one possessed such power of a don
Continually, still was the king
Plainest in sight like a decent human being

As he was but not among us
An immoral man deceiving in moral
With powerful adversaries of a great mass
Maybe a god yet still a mortal

Even if he was witty, capable in stable
Death is inevitable

Albeit many contemplated until now
Inarguably up to the end—

He refused to bow