The Delirious Tycoon

By Arushi Manchanda

Cold he was, yet hated the fractals and flakes,

Gold his heart was, but never would he ever put his emotions for stake.

Restful was the surface, as he was stormy in the acuity,

Wouldn’t he share a glare, past his own beauty.

Few were his followers, in his kingdom he assumed,

Miseries he created by by whom he got consumed.

Trivial was his dominance, he thought helped him rule,

Inevitability, stated the stars, for the longest will he fool.

Pricey were the gems, and with the tenderness he held their possession,

Fortuitous will be the one, who will claim the succession.

By Arushi Manchanda