Who Was Seeking The Light?

Satish Verma

Your insistence to become 
something, to overstay existence 
was not fair. 

On a row of white shrouds – 
holding innocent beings, 
death was walking barefoot, crying. 

Between farewell and stupidity, 
staccato, shooting questions to life. 
What was the need for this achievement? 

Fear was turning you against me, 
to abandon the peace. Truth cannot be repeated 
again and again. It becomes a lie. 

No body knows how to bury 
the deception. It is still dark. 
Who was seeking the light?