He born
illegitimate
nobody named
had no God
nights often at
mosque, temple,
church
darkness
enclosed
all along
had no prayers
satisfying
hunger
on wastes
to read
write was
an ecstasy
of dreams
hands had
lines of fate
path dug
different
stealing
a vocation
for survival
an alchemy
of innerself
grew with
money
power came
by way
honour
showered flowers
became king
by the people
robbed
legitimate
belongings
of the people
never done
anything
for the people.