Silly Moth

The silly moth drives itself toward the flame of a night exhaustively. Drawn by unknowable forces, it endlessly drives toward the heat and the light. The moth completely disregards safety, it is completely oblivious to the flames harsh bite. Even after it is burned, it continues the tireless race toward the uncatchable attraction hidden somewhere within light. These poor moths play the same game every night, uncontrollably, inexplicably, irrepressibly. This pathetic dance of death with light, when observed from the human eye, is perceived as humorous, a bit puzzling, perhaps with a tinge of annoyance. But, is it beautiful? Hardly, the poor moth is looked on with contempt and amusement. Its passionate pact of dance unto death with fire just exemplifies the little insect’s insect brain, doing what it has been programmed to do. Stupid little moth! Thank you for showing us your clear inferiority, your helpless efforts cause me a small degree of satisfaction. It is not beautiful, no.

But what if the moth knew what the fire would bring? What if the moth, clearly conscious of the injuries awaiting him, does it anyway? The moth’s determination to capture the fire’s essence propels him forward, always to be burned by the fire’s cold heat. Still, the moth urges on, hazard falls to the wayside; though you shall burn me, the chase is worth it! The thrill of being in pursuit of that what seems unattainable, it’s worth it! There is nothing else on this world of more value than the fire’s cruel temptation. I shall solve your riddle fire, I shall share your essence. Beautiful.