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?