The Flame

It’s a beautiful disaster,

The epitome of madness,

Isn’t it?

The colors running together,

Blending into a stream,

Leaking into our consciousness.

Mesmerizing,

Yet indescribable,

Indiscernible.

Maybe that’s why moths

And mosquitoes

Flock to the spectacle,

And maybe we would too,

If we didn’t know better.

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