From the depths of darkness,
I spot a ray of light
The cynic from a past life, thinks of the cliche
The romantic in me, rushes forth
Forgetting my form and environ
My eye keen on the prize
A moth I am, perhaps a butterfly someday,
Seeking solace in the warmth of a flame
How can conflicting poles come together?
Am I what I used to know?
Am I the adventurer all of a sudden?
Am I perhaps a firefly and not the butterfly?
The flame beckons
The chase awakening me
The prize a consequence
The experience, the ecstacy
Why do I seek the flame so?
Why do I want to burn?
Is it ecstacy or agony?
Can there be so much pleasure in pain?
Is the challenge of the unattainable the motive?
Are you an inspiration or a death knell?