A delicate creature, with wings so paper thin
The moth starts it’s journey with a purpose from within.
To reach for the moon where the light calls upon
the naive little creature who’s life has just begun.
It’s instincts to fly straight, without distraction
Are scuppered by a more powerful attraction;
A flame ignites in the distant sight
A candle burns brightly against the black night.
The moth is compelled to turn it’s head
To a much more desirable goal far ahead.
The glow of the flame hypnotises the creature
Far more desirable with it’s beautiful features
Than the soft round moon hanging far far away
The flame calls to the moth, we can dance and play.
The moth can’t resist, try as it might
It flies drunkenly in love to the source of the light.
The flame dances and flirts with the soft, sweet breeze
It takes over the moths thoughts, so easy to please
The way the flame moves, unpredictable yet pure
Softly flickering in the moonlight, it’s irresistible allure
Addicted now, it’s path is now set
To the excitement the flame promises, the hit it will get
The moth now transfixed, close to the danger that lies
Feels the intense heat through it’s body as it flies
It cannot stop now, it wants more and more
It’s almost there, to the flame’s core
The tips of the fragile wings catch the flame
And set fire to the moth. They are now the same.
The moth is a flame, floating in the nights sky
Up towards the moon, above the clouds so high.