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Ambiguous Frizz Mar 2018
A moth drawing near towards the flame
The fire attracts her seamless wings
She goes, she flies, without a hint of shame

"Beautiful things must be known," she said
But beautiful things can leave you in dread

Still she comes close
Closer to that enticing, dancing flame

Flies behind
And back and forth

She moves her wings to fill enough gap
To feel the heat, and the warmth
Yet safe from that vicious sap
Tasting an irresistible temptation
K Balachandran Feb 2018
wind flutters a leaf,
moth eaten in nice patterns;
dignity hides pain!
George Krokos Jan 2018
Whatever it is that attracts a moth to burning flame
is seen by me as a mysterious sacrificial love game.
The moth is just an insect and that flame is of fire
and so gets consumed in the heat of all its desire.
_______
From "The Quatrains" ongoing writings since the early '90's
Adrian Supetran Jan 2018
A moth started to flutter
Its wings, I found myself under
A spell I can't break
Such a perfect mistake

It was then I fought
For a life that was brought,
In this world full of chances
More than a coincidence

Knitted by the threads of fate
Entangled inside the gate
Where flowers bloomed
And mediocrity is doomed

The moth started to guide me
In ways, I don't feel empty
Something dimly lit inside
Burned brightly, unhide
A poem dedicated to my second mother, an awesome entomologist in the Philippines - Dr. Aimee Lynn B. Dupo
Adam Robinson Dec 2017
Collected punk neon girl
Pixie goth artsy boy
I could read you both anytime
I'm a stickler for a problem
So enough of the courage
Enough of the bravado
I love things I cannot fix
So drugs, mental plague and festering narcissism are the things I like
A secret to only myself
My friend brings on lovers
Who are scared to touch
They look on with pearly eyes
And mouth out words.
With only silent prayer they have --
No action.
She lies there ashamed.
Too pure too touch
Too perfect to be near
She's a gyroscopic girl - a dancing queen of flowers
Too thunderous to tame
Must be nice, I say.
Hell, she replies.
It makes her grow black thorns
Which makes me show her my black moths
In my own brain
Another friend is in a mix
She cannot feel her teeth
As she digs on into cruel flesh
Endlessly --
Prospering off of the mania.
Madness in us all
Sparks only to blame.
Get Out Of My Head
Mos Sep 2017
Tell me who I'm meant to be
Because as of now I'm just a moth drawn to light
A moth drawn to the golden glow of their aura
An inspiration that lies somewhere between the gods i don't believe in and the unattainable sensation of perfection
This fixation on beauty ever out of reach
To be the soft crackle on vinyl
Or a warm smile to a stranger
What is my place in this barren world?
The eerie glowing of the moon or the golden rays of the sun shining in the bedroom of your loved one
Tell me who i'm meant to be because the old me is dead and the new me hasn't been born yet
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