Of Moths and Martyrs
I stand under a blank slate,
A wide expanse of nightscape.
The moth circles the light source
The dimming lightbulb flickers once.
I swirl alone in peace.
I prefer to breathe in silence.
I discern a brief distinction
Between destiny and descent
Between satire and dissent.
Between repentance and regret.
I dig between the lines
Until the dirt beneath my nails
Reveals to I and I
Like a nail unto my palm,
Like the moth circling the light
Waiting to devour my death.
Copyright © Samuel Lee | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment