Baron and Feme

The end,
Is the beginning
For it emerges
Like a phoenix
From the ashes
Of hope,
And upon broken wings
Makes sore attempts
To seek true love
Up & down
And forwards and backwards
It moves,
And comes to the beginning
And back again,
The resultant being
A perfect naught
This is the story
Of a Baron,
A cursed demigod
Disguised in a mortal frame
On this earth
Searching for his feme
He might not be a hero
But nay, villain he is not
May be not even close to best
But he has a magic
Of his own
But who knows this and
Who knows it not?
Twice rejected thrice shy
May be multiplied by ten
If he is so good
And handsome
Why he should be
Dejected then?
What he does
God knows only
But job he has none
He is a poet, a lover
A connoisseur of
Love and beauty
Who could tell you then?
The baron lives
A life
Nom de plume
Waiting to be two
As and when it’s done,
But every time
It comes close
The feme chooses
A mortal, better one,
And leaves the baron
To his fame
Still single
In this matrimonial game,
Visited only by years
And teased by dreams
And loneliness
He knows,
That love cannot be dead
If he is not so chosen
Some other might
Have been blessed
In the path of God,
The baron holds his tongue,
Never asking questions
And happy for
The chosen ones,
With the morning dew
He sets his frame
And looks to the world
With a cheerful smile
On his face,
For his heart
Is a mirror
The deepest desires,
An echo of true self,
Possessed of
Fancy, weird
And mystic knowledge
And qualities of mirth
And can make you laugh,
Anytime on this earth
A breeding ground
For arts, literature
And allied germs
What could be done?
Loving, sharing and caring
He knows,
And knows
The language of being one
And yet learning
The ways of the world,
Still single
And yet hopeful
Of that day
When his call
Be answered
For he believes
We live in God
On the foundation
Of love
So age,
Is just a figure
Prejudice to color
He is none
He has to offer
Unconditional love
To everyone,
Respects freewill
That lay
In deepest chambers
Of the heart
And with him
You’d never have to pretend
Being that someone apart
And lives in a little home
Made up of words and smiles
In a small town called heart
In the city of love
If you are
Still charmed by cuckoo’s song
And what nature speaks
Every day,
You are invited
To weave a song
Of you and I
Till it melts
Into one
And to the world
We will be
Baron & feme.

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