Burnt, Yet Again…

A bright flame that burns.
I am down.
Burnt my wings again.
And I look up,
There you stand,
Luring other stupid moths like me.

I’ll heal,Image
I’ll rise from the ashes.
And I’ll fly again.
And again,
I’d start believing in the light.

It could be the moon,
That can never be mine.
It could be a firefly,
Who’d  fly along my side,
And light up my life.
Or it could be you again;
A lifeless, heartless white candle.

You’d still burn bright,
I’d again burn my flight.

But I shall recover.
I shall let the pain burn with ashes.
I shall not let an imposter,
Burn my faith in the true light.

While you,
You’d soon burn-out
And be nothing but
A heap of wax.


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