He hid his soul in a lazaret,
Stashed away from anyone’s reach,
And waited for that one person,
Who could dare to find him and breach.

He was a lone ranger,
Often remained in solitude,
He was never social and he seldom spoke,
People thought he had issues with his attitude.

And like a nomad,
He traveled from place to place,
Often restless and fidget,
Searching his serene space.

In that never ending quandary,
Few decades gradually passed by,
And he finally realize,
Soul couldn’t be hidden away,
Nor can be caged and set aside.

Calmness then found him,
And he was at ease,
He no longer wasted time,
Trying to find the one,
That could give him peace.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah