"The Red-Gold Mark"

Eighteen years beneath the sun, Virat rose—the chosen one. With fire and grit, he stood so tall, Through every rise, through every fall. For Bengaluru, his soul ran deep, In pain and loss, he chose to keep The dream alive, the battle on— Till glory came at break of dawn. Not luck, not chance, but sleepless nights, Sweat and scars that earned the heights. And by his side, a silent flame— AB, the artist of the game. Though retired, he's ever near, A voice of calm, a bond sincere. Not bound by rules, yet ever true— Because real love won’t say adieu. Two warriors, one crimson crest, They gave their all, they gave their best. Now RCB stands crowned and proud— Their legacy echoes through the crowd. To dreams fulfilled, to hearts that bled, To red-gold rain the fans have shed— This victory’s more than just a win, It’s where true legends begin.