1st of the Moth Cycle
What is it now approaches
in inelegant flight?
Its flutter of wings
disturbing the night?
It collides with the wall
nibbles at curtain cloth
you guess true, esteemed colleagues
for, of course, t'is a moth.
And this creature, so brainless,
in a wink, in a flash
would soar into a flame
and be burned into ash.
As it draws to me nearer
I recoil in disgust
from the fluttering wings
with their powdery dust.
Away with you, moth!
Putrid creature, foul thing!
Begone from my abode!
Fly away! Take to wing!
If you choose to remain
then my hand shall be forced
I shall lift it and swat
and shall feel no remorse.
You remain, foolish bug?
You would bait me to act?
Yet I pause, hesitate,
and consider. In fact,
I am moved to compassion
by your dumb mothy ways
and your mindless attraction
to fiery blaze.
Oh, moth so ungainly
oh, unthinking drone,
could you but muster every
braincell you own
I would speak you my love
for you are, do you see
the only creature so stupid
as to come close to me.
2nd of the Moth Cycle
Consider the moth, I used to despise
T'is drawn to the flame, there to face its demise
As one gazes, one wonders, does it realize
The fiery doom, towards which it flies?
And I cannot but wonder at which I am wroth,
Is it the fire, or is it the moth?
Could it be neither, or could it be both?
Do I yearn as the moth to the flame to betroth?
We are all of us like little moths to a flame
To burn is the name, is the name of our game
Whence we have come, there shall we return
There's only one way back, the way is to burn.
3rd of the Moth Cycle
To complete the cycle
of moth and flame
would demand repetition
again and the same
and once more and again
and no words can belong
after having been said
and, once said, being wrong
Further shall they be mangled
chewed spew that I quoth
till there is no more flame
and there is no more moth
Yet no choice have I but
onwards batter in vain
as does the moth
against the windowpane
from this tale's first word
was its end all but known
it is passed to you now
nothing new being shown.
From this tale, as all others
there is nothing to learn
Do you see?
Do you see now,
Why we have to Burn?
What is it now approaches
in inelegant flight?
Its flutter of wings
disturbing the night?
It collides with the wall
nibbles at curtain cloth
you guess true, esteemed colleagues
for, of course, t'is a moth.
And this creature, so brainless,
in a wink, in a flash
would soar into a flame
and be burned into ash.
As it draws to me nearer
I recoil in disgust
from the fluttering wings
with their powdery dust.
Away with you, moth!
Putrid creature, foul thing!
Begone from my abode!
Fly away! Take to wing!
If you choose to remain
then my hand shall be forced
I shall lift it and swat
and shall feel no remorse.
You remain, foolish bug?
You would bait me to act?
Yet I pause, hesitate,
and consider. In fact,
I am moved to compassion
by your dumb mothy ways
and your mindless attraction
to fiery blaze.
Oh, moth so ungainly
oh, unthinking drone,
could you but muster every
braincell you own
I would speak you my love
for you are, do you see
the only creature so stupid
as to come close to me.
2nd of the Moth Cycle
Consider the moth, I used to despise
T'is drawn to the flame, there to face its demise
As one gazes, one wonders, does it realize
The fiery doom, towards which it flies?
And I cannot but wonder at which I am wroth,
Is it the fire, or is it the moth?
Could it be neither, or could it be both?
Do I yearn as the moth to the flame to betroth?
We are all of us like little moths to a flame
To burn is the name, is the name of our game
Whence we have come, there shall we return
There's only one way back, the way is to burn.
3rd of the Moth Cycle
To complete the cycle
of moth and flame
would demand repetition
again and the same
and once more and again
and no words can belong
after having been said
and, once said, being wrong
Further shall they be mangled
chewed spew that I quoth
till there is no more flame
and there is no more moth
Yet no choice have I but
onwards batter in vain
as does the moth
against the windowpane
from this tale's first word
was its end all but known
it is passed to you now
nothing new being shown.
From this tale, as all others
there is nothing to learn
Do you see?
Do you see now,
Why we have to Burn?
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