For A Pinch Of Light

Satish Verma

The black thread 
tied on your wrist was 
meant to end the siege. 

The fire-eaters were 
back. I will watch 
the birth of violence. 

When the night 
comes. I will move from 
door to door for a flame. 

Fireflies will assemble 
to mourn the death 
of the baby moon.