Thus Hath the Candle Singed the Moth
I was watching moths swarm streetlights on the hillsides, and they flickered as small embers in the distance; illuminated in the moment - as was I.
While sitting on that hill I remembered a metaphor someone once told me; that moths must be the closest relative to humans, that they are the only other creature drawn to the light which kills them. Though spoken with some melancholy, I smiled upon my remembrance. Perhaps the moth does not crave the flame in folly nor naievity. It's as though that light were a form of enlightenment - the enlightenment so many humans lose the path to, or ignore. For even if the moth never faced the light, and flew the streets in enveloped darkness, he still would meet his end, never consumed by the flame and fury.
I have touched the flame, I am basked in it's illumination, my face in shadow through the darkness and half new moon.
I have grazed my fingers through the brazen glow. I have burned, I am burning, I shall burn again.
(Thus hath the candle singed the moth.)
While sitting on that hill I remembered a metaphor someone once told me; that moths must be the closest relative to humans, that they are the only other creature drawn to the light which kills them. Though spoken with some melancholy, I smiled upon my remembrance. Perhaps the moth does not crave the flame in folly nor naievity. It's as though that light were a form of enlightenment - the enlightenment so many humans lose the path to, or ignore. For even if the moth never faced the light, and flew the streets in enveloped darkness, he still would meet his end, never consumed by the flame and fury.
I have touched the flame, I am basked in it's illumination, my face in shadow through the darkness and half new moon.
I have grazed my fingers through the brazen glow. I have burned, I am burning, I shall burn again.
(Thus hath the candle singed the moth.)