A moth flutters close to the flame,
only to dance a waltz of death.
Blinded by the fire's false beauty,
it surrenders to temptation's breath.
In the soft glow of a flickering light,
wings burn from the wicked heat.
The hungry flames lick their lips
for the flying chunk of meat.
A few caresses from burning fingers
seals the poor moth's fate.
The dance ends with death's embrace,
but the lesson is learned too late.