Dark Presence

Blindfolded you wanted
to catch the moon.
It was no my fault.

The sounds first crushed the
strings and then came loud rumblings.

My darkness
was taking the revenge.

You knew because you were blind.

Cadavers. No names, after
cleaning the blood. You paint on―
the forehead. Quake.

Pushed upwards in seconds―
the absence. You were saved
because you were telling lies.

It was not an imagination.
Find out, who was―
omnipresent― no where?

Satish Verma