Dark Presence

Satish Verma

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?