Suicidal

The moth curiously stumbled through the window

Eyes burning from the skies outside

But who’s to say the inner layer is always the safest

Innocence demanding attention, instead getting neglected

It floats all the way to the top of this war

Misunderstood and nowhere to turn

Sweat dripping to depict the end of a lifetime

Start of another start

Reverence can’t save it, no

Comfort is enslavement

It learned to never depend on the words of another

Fly away, fly

Into the flame, cause all anyone else ever does is

Cry

The broken bits inside cannot be restored

Promises cannot be replenished

The towers of progress tumbling down like an avalanche

Poor little moth, poor little moth

without hope for another chance