White Moth

You flutter in so unexpectedly
In this dark midnight hour
I remember once reading
You're a creature of some power

You, my little white moth
You are a soul of the dead
Specifically, one of someone loved
Or at least that's what I read

It seems strange to think
Of you as such, my tiny friend
Knowing you exist solely because
Someone dear met their end

I wonder who you were before
And just who loved you so
It saddens me to think that
This answer I will never know

There is much I can assume
Based on how you behave
How you fly for me now
Reveals the knowledge I crave

There is an energy about you
You seem to be a youthful thing
Your heart had to be young
Before being reborn with wings

You dance in the air carefully
Twirling circles before my eyes
You must have been graceful
Before you met your demise

Landing on my wall lets me see
How beautiful your markings are
I feel you were once beautiful
And your wings are a memoir

But soon you must depart again
For you have found my light
My observations come to an end
As you make your final flight

The bulb glows with yellowy heat
And to it you are quickly drawn
You land on it's glassy surface
Once more, your life is gone

The light must mean something
Maybe it seemed like heaven
And you simply must touch it
That was why you were driven

But it matters no longer
For in the moonlit hours of Thoth
You left this world once more
My precious little white moth