AMBUSHED

To wean away a tigermoth 
from a bell jar 
for a journey of faith 
against ebony of illusion. 

The caterpillar has restrained 
the roof, 
of future accidents 
to coming of age. 

You do not know 
the speed 
of nakedness 
on silvery path. 

Where, 
the ending comes? 
You know 
we only watch the heels of forerunners.

Satish Verma