The Moth
I have been approached with the inquisitional thought:
“What manner of beast do you think for yourself?”
Naive in fantastic, ignorant optimism,
I have often replied
an eagle
an owl
a raven
a canary
all with the image of wings blissfully occupying my intentions:
the image of unchained grace:
opened arms embracing every gust of euphoric chances
Exposed, naked, and raped of innocence, dreams, and hope,
I am a witness to the sodomy brought by observations, interactions, expectations, and the most deadly,
reason
And so with a violated, but revealed and enlightened mind, I say not just of me, but of humanity:
The Moth
Observe these simple, yet beautiful creatures in a common scenario
One light illuminated
One light dormant in darkness
The space “contaminated” by the darkness attracts little following
no approachment
The brightened air hypnotizes, entices these poor creatures to it.
Many of these hearts see and feel the light, but stay put
Always wanting
Die wanting
Some encircle the source, earnestly flying to their goal only to be blocked, hurt, frustrated, and perhaps
enraged
They insanely in an almost masochistic setting repeat their efforts, becoming battered, exhausted, and mad with obsession
Most waste their lives never passing the barrier
Once in awhile a persistent character breaks through!
The goal reached, the dream accomplished,
Happiness Incarnate!
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ENTERS THE FLAMES
ENGULFED IN THEIR HOPES AND OBSESSIONS,
THE FIRES OF THEIR PASSION
THEY BURN!
and eventually
fade
The moth and I:
Are we so different?