The Moth and the Flame
What is that that glows so dearly?
Light to my blindness, embrace to the lonely?
Fluttering by my wings, ah, the flare
The flame so beautiful, I haven't a care
I love the flame, yes, I love the fair light
I love the fire more than I love my flight
Do I know the flame, I discern
Until I feel myself burn.
It singes my wings with a blinding flash
Until my existence is burned to ash.
I don't want to see the light
At the end of the tunnel.
The darkness is enchanting,
The light is undesirable.