He used words like fables
from some time forgotten tales,
prose weaved with pearls
expressed in a simple vernacular way

For that is the only language he knew,
without the shade of vitriolic
or any boisterous hue,
void of the stratagems that often people play,
corralling to deceive someone
in the most deceitful way

He had no secrets,
neither had any sins to hide,
he never played any planned chide,
or took anyone for a ride

For he had the most beautiful soul
still surviving tangled
in this maligned wild world

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

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