"Suicidal Moths"

"Suicidal Moths"


I've watched them float.
I've watched them flutter.
Delicate creatures cast asunder;
Led to believe their lives are a blunder.
They chase wonder
All while wondering why:
"Why do I want to wonder?
Why do I even wonder?
I fly as high as others do.
I cruise through rain and thunder,
The chill of winter,
The sting of summer,
But I still often wonder....
....am I among the numbers?"


Their questions yield no answer.
Ignored inquiry is a raw deal;
So they float from thrill to thrill.
It's the closest thing to real....


....until there's nothing left to chase.
Others call their stagnancy complacency.
But they've grown weary of the pace.
Nothing cleaves more than latency.
They see no reason to save face.
It seems useless to hide from others
Whether their wings are dull in hue
Or arrayed in lush, vibrant colors.


They are the lost.
They are the weary.
Lulled into living without cost.
I've never witnessed something so dreary.


It's hard to see clearly
When gliding through the wind
With eyes so cold and teary.
They search for a friend:
Someone with leverage to lend.
Someone willing to extend hands;
But danger is found therein
On the palm in which they land.


Underlying motives.
Undisclosed plans
Line the fingers of the soulless.
Heartless purveyors of swiftly clasped hands.
The hummingbirds have their perch.
The blue jays have their branch;
But what of these delicate souls?
Is their every move left to chance?


I watch them flutter.
I watch them float.
I watch them fly away
As if to find a way
To just escape
Or perhaps search for a hideaway 
Or a higher way
Far away
Furthest from those hands
That sought to swat with every chance.
Or maybe in search of help.
Or possibly in search of self.


The sky is clear; yet it appears
That they've found a new direction.
It's where only they can steer;
So it's barely within detection;
But I've noticed from inception.
I've been watching that long.
I heard every love song
Among moments drawn out and prolonged.
They travel in public.
Not much is required of stealth.
Maybe they're running from oneself.
They think this will offer health.


I see them flutter.
I watch them fly.
I witness them running.
They travel sky high.
I slowly widen my eyes
As I stand to see where they run;
But I can't seem to ask why
As they draw closer to the sun.
I must admit that I understand
Albeit still shocked and stunned.
For them, life is no longer fun.
They've grown tired of being shunned.
It's quite the copious chore
To be okay with being ignored.
They are the ones floating about bulbs
Before being knocked to the floor.
They are the creatures looking around
As if in earnest wonder
In hopes of being seen on the ground
Awaiting feet to be flattened under.
It seems that no one cares
To even lend unsavory skill
To invoke an end to their misery;
So they cater to their own will.


They flock and gather around:
This collective in need of kill;
Yet they never make a sound.
Not one scream or painful shrill.
They've had their fill.
They've choked down pills,
Flown with broken wings,
And dealt with frigid wind chill.


There was nothing I could do.
My only option was to pray
That they would just come to
And change their route one day.
Flutter in my direction.
Float about my way.
I promise to offer protection.
I'll keep this world at bay.
I know it's highly unlikely
That they'll hear the words I say;
But it's always been just like me
To try to pull victims from the fray.


I know the sun seems warm;
But it will surely harm.


I know the light is bright;
But it will surely smite.


I just want them to be alright;
But I can't help them in this fight.


Such a lonely realization lingers
As I stare at ten bare fingers.


I don't have enough room
To pull them from their smoldering tomb.
The inevitable surely looms;
But I won't accept that it's coming soon.
Sunlight glows within my eyes;
But it can't stop the tears I cry
As it consumes and scorches them dry.
I never wanted to say goodbye.


Every single social butterfly
Was once a caterpillar, if given thought.
We give them support to get by;
But what of the suicidal moths?

Written By: Devin Joseph Metz