The Moth ©

Velvety fur, soft and smooth,

Brown wings, of hope and truth;

Its hirsute body, of ice and dust,

Inching closer and closer..

Wings of lust and fire-

An evanescent memory of the moth

Is drawn to the fire….

As I am drawn to you.

The mischievous proboscis; feeling the unfelt,

Myriad compound eyes; watching you with all its warmth;

The opulent display on its wings, naked thoughts,

I watch the creature as it circles its death;

Its tiny body throwing a penumbra against the fire,

The moth is drawn to fire, as I am drawn to you.

– Biswadeep Ghosh Hazra

#edited

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