Her eyes'd shed the tears in Captivating red
Aching for all the memories buried deep in the garden of death.
Where blossoms were just mere temptations and
She a pretty butterfly attracted to them
Like what moths are to a flame!!

-

You wait for it to
shed off from your skin
moths turning to butterflies
...poetry...words...art
but your skin
a plethora of moths
Moths sprawling around
on a ground of dust....
A pattern of nothingness.
Art beautified
flies from flower to flower.
Heap of dust
lies elsewhere.

-

EPHEMERAL

papery wings
of tiny moths form mats
on the window screen
every time one leaves
I stare at the empty patch
waiting to be filled
and in comes another

I don't know if I adore moths
but I've seen more miserable moths
always ready to fill in spaces
than brilliant butterflies all my life
choosing bright spots under the sun
I remember my father, and the man
my mother married

I look at myself in the mirror
then I move away
and stare at the space
in the mirror's face
reflecting something else now

-

Well, friend I suppose these broken feelings,
Will someday find the road,
Out of our brains,
To open spaces and moon,
Like the moth, now on the ground,
Don't bother it,
Let it be,
I think its getting to long,
Folders piling on,
Thank you for reading it all,
I will keep sending this letters friend,
Even if you are no one,
To me,
Hope, a single candle by the window,
Moths will come.

-

We all are just moths; in search of that one particular flame..

-

Tinges of drops on my skin, screaming clouds ,
and burbling moths aloud
seem to have come in unison to raise hands of prayers towards heaven
for this divine shower which is now washing away every little grudge I carry in my belly and the humongous tornadoes I hide inside me.
there is something about this rain,
the zeal of turf
brings out dance insane.
as I unwrap this alluring token of skies,
I realise this is endearment in disguise.
The lust of leaves tender
and sleeping tads
seem to have hushed for a while of thought,
and these mini tickles of drops
over and above the feet
have soaked in a gleeful abode.

-

Be a candle
and moths will
definitely surround you.
#Quote.No.2195

-

The Moth don't care when he sees The Flame.
He might get burned, but he's in the game.
And once he's in, he can't go back, he'll
Beat his wings 'til he burns them black...
No, The Moth don't care when he sees The Flame. . .
The Moth don't care if The Flame is real,
'Cause Flame and Moth got a sweetheart deal.
And nothing fuels a good flirtation,
Like Need and Anger and Desperation...
No, The Moth don't care if The Flame is real. . .

-

An uninvited guest,
Like moths surrounded,
Tubelight In the night.

-

You mistook me to be a moth when I was a firefly.

A moth flies around light its entire life to only get burnt in return. Whereas a firefly flies in darkness lightning up its entire dark world.

For one the light was suicidal for it's survival and I had to light that burning spark inside me for my thriving...

-