Silent,dipped in the inky wrath
of billion memories,seconded to triumph;
inept to forget the stories heard of
hundred tons and many more left unsaid;
I watched him smothering the world once again,for
the inevitable last time,effervescent as first.
Ageless,and assured of immortality,
the knight creased,not before
flaunting the illuminate omega,
relishing the time, crowd went bated,
as it is for now and forever.
Chirping screams,of indignant respect,coherent
for every soul sander ed again
and he took the butt to ground,
daring to succor the ornate of
his purple patch of legacy-perfumed as eternal.
History absorbed the cheers and tears with fain
and time bestirred to stop,to cream the
limelight,explicit on him alone.
With every chant,he played the harness,
leaving the enemy with roar of futility.
Indent,memories route the minds,
to strokes of class and brilliance.
The years bat-told stories overcame
the grieve of the inevitable;
and my thanksgiving started,but only scant.
Nonplussed,the day departed,
notching a billion ‘SACHIN’ to its credits,
and now is the time,cricket gets ‘retired’ hurt;
The sun honored,loathing to end the
glorified supremacy of this knight,
But at the end,he remained NOT OUT.