It Hurts

Folder: 
Satish Verma

You start forgetting 
the absence of 
existence. Wishing to remain 
dead for sometime― to see what you did't 
want to see in the hands of god. 

A tricky aura 
overlaps the consciousness― 
of proxy war. Someone 
cries out for the earth's hug. 
Wolves start howling. This 
was a stainless murder. 

I get nightmares. Craft 
slips from the tongue. You 
must decide for yourself, who 
was a clean angel. Door was 
locked, key in your pocket. 
You cannot move in the absence of proof. 

I told you, we are heading 
towards the Apocalypse.