VII. The Moth and the Flame
When Desire Hides in Ash
The moth moves silent, drawn to fire,
its wings of dusk, its heart’s desire.
It circles close, then veers away,
a hidden hunger kept at bay.
The flame burns bright, but does not chase,
it waits within its guarded place.
The moth returns, again, again,
its longing masked in shadow’s skin.
And I, too, circle what I seek,
my yearning cloaked, my courage weak.
I wear the mask of calm control,
while ash collects inside my soul.
Yet even ash remembers flame,
the ember whispers still my name.
Desire hides, but never dies—
it wears the dark, it veils its cries.
The moth confides what I must claim:
I am both shadow, and the flame.
About the Creator
Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales
I love to write. I have a deep love for words and language; a budding philologist (a late bloomer according to my father). I have been fascinated with the construction of sentences and how meaning is derived from the order of words.
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