Like some deceit was on the move
wearing an arduous smile
and an enticing look
he was the perfect disguise

He wasn’t wary of his milieu
his charm remained infectious
his words casting spell,
a polyglot of endless verse
he often captivated his audience
through his green gaze

The dames knew he was a whiff,
a puff of air to disappear in a whim
yet despite such prescient accuracy
they fell for him,
probably trapped in circumstances beyond their control
and soon remained bereaved
in an ostensible term called love
or maybe they were part of some iniquitous illusion

Not sure whom the blame
the bigot or the befooled ones,
for such characters are in abundance
in every corner and in every turn

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

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