Jittering black forms;
No turning away!
Forms unceasing;
Greater projection
With minute affliction.
See its jittering,
Mesmeric frittering.
The gross dims:
Mind’s eye still gazing,
Still tracing
Forms and shapes
To be remembered
For the next case.

Carried over by eyes now glass;
Visions of forms to materialize.
The moth not thinking in his time,
The moth not knowing.

Regressing senselessly;
Unthinking levels;
Unwittingly, unknowingly
Appeasing desires
Born of earthly
Animations.

Carried over by ignorance;
Visions pertaining to dust.
The moth not thinking in his time
The moth not knowing.

Tombs for points of
Consciousness unconscious;
Unsatisfied perfection;
Insatiable contradictions
Of aims and goals.
Man unable to realize!
Moth incapable to see,
Or choose, decide
Appease, or worship.

You’ll be a moth.
You’re a moth.
It’s a pity.