With simple intentions,
much like a moth, I will
hover over lights.
The heat I can't endure,
but my body is addicted.
It's light is God-like, and true.
My fragile wings exhibit
the years I've spent beneath
these lamps. Shadeless and unguarded.
Heads turned as my frame
was electrocuted by what I loved.
I came to close. Why so close?