Samuel Lee Poet Elegiac Lyric

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.

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