Wings beating fast, faster still against the words
Oh fearful things
Fused together over time in a few sentences
Believed and uttered
So I don’t grow too much of anything
A sense of hope, longing, growth
Because I might become that person dreaming
Too high
Flight too close to the flames makes dust of me
Foolish motes on the wind
Better to be unnoticed in the corner and safe
From ridicule I thought
Ah but now I see this is not possible
For I will become dust from doing nothing
Having no destiny
Or destination but obscurity
In knowledge I fly to the brightest part of the flame
I may disintegrate to nothingness
Knowing I tried to do something to show my own self
I will keep silent as I’m devoured
The moths silence
Ailsa
©AilsaCawleyPoetry 2016
©AilsaCawleyPoetry2016
ailsacawley 