Chasing of the hue moth 🦋
The child chased a butterfly, Unaware it was only a moth. Through fields and light she ran, Drawn by a shadow, beauty cloaked. When at last its truth was revealed, She sought to paint its dull wings bright, But dyes could not remake its form, For its essence was forged in night. She wept for the chase, the loss, the lie, And vowed to never again pursue shadows in disguise. Yet, will she learn from her scars, Or repeat until the pain burns deep? For tireless runs leave marks anew, Lessons unheeded, wounds that seep. Moths outnumber butterflies, Nocturnal forms with muted hues. To find the rare and radiant prize, One must learn to wait, to choose. Ceaseless chasing brings only despair, But patience blooms where wisdom lies. Let the nectar-rich flower guide t...