Mr.Power.

I was a child until I was invaded.
I knew to rule from where I learnt to rule.
My mask of power was others' mandate.
I chose the right weapon to fight,
When my rivals could not decide upon
What their weapons really were.
I began to expand,with my new gadgets,
Whose game plan I alone knew.
It is the snake that knows the rat holes
And the anthills,on its zig zag course.
I neither phoo phoo the progeny,
Nor do I care to woo the posterity.
I design my profile to fit into Time's frame
And pass power balls in Time's space.
I shout with the magnitude of fabled facts,
That make my voice wield its valour.
The listeners have a mind for magic;
And magic makes more minds to listen to.
The volume of my voice outweighs,
The weight of ideas,facts and figures, 
Not meant for the streets and the mobs.
Of course,the volume of my voice does owe
Its reach, to invisible recharging loads.
My voice is ever the winning sword,
Playing hide and hunt from its sheath
Made of Power, of the Order of the Tiger,
In the guise of William Blake's white Lamb.
                                        P.Chandrasekaran.