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The flame and a moth
I concur,
your beauty is dangerous indeed,
you asked what I thought of you,
but no words I could weave.
I concede,
you're like a flame
and I am the moth who's trying to reach,
and if time allowed I would have reached,
I would have burned in your embers,
scorched,
not yearning for even the briefest release.
But here I am still,
empty, it is impossible to explain you,
not a word I called upon could measure you up,
so I'll let it have rest from my thought,
knowing only our souls could understand
and with that I was satisfied.
© Panducollections&co
your beauty is dangerous indeed,
you asked what I thought of you,
but no words I could weave.
I concede,
you're like a flame
and I am the moth who's trying to reach,
and if time allowed I would have reached,
I would have burned in your embers,
scorched,
not yearning for even the briefest release.
But here I am still,
empty, it is impossible to explain you,
not a word I called upon could measure you up,
so I'll let it have rest from my thought,
knowing only our souls could understand
and with that I was satisfied.
© Panducollections&co
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