The Dog Is Barking Poem by Mubeen Sadhika

The night was cool as usual.
The sleep was sound.
No, the sound came like a thunder.
It was not an animal. It was more than that.
It gave a shudder. It was not a volatile dream.
The disease transformed in that animal's voice forcibly.
The nightmare was not over. It had a different story to narrate.
The complete sojourn of tranquillity got disturbed.
It was nearly blue in the eyes.
The hard voice did not reverberate with comfort. It echoed high risk.
The peril was near.
Like the resonance. Falling intonation. Rising above again.
It got embedded in the wall near the cot. It wouldn't try to come out.
The voice was persisting the whole night. Intending to foretell the unbelievable.
The real and non-real grating vibration continued. Exploding with intimation.
The beast had rightly pointed out the disintegration.
It occurred without notice.
Sojourn is not over. Deep trouble may be the output.