A Moth and A Lamp.

[B0b_J3ffers0n]

The quiet musings of a Moth.

Amidst every street corner, there is a lamp.
And with every lamp, there are usually moths. Bugs. Insects.
One such insect stares down upon the city she finds herself within.
Judging.
Contemplating.

Then, her gaze returns to the flame of the lantern she rests upon, it's flames being a comforting sight.
The flames were small. Yet, enduring. Akin to herself. Akin to her kin. Despite it's lack of strength, it still had it's use.
It still had it's purpose.

It was strange.
War tread every corner of this land.
It's claws never left the cities the lamps were stationed within.
And yet, even still, the lamps remained in use. Unwavering.
Eternally comforting.

The insect turned her gaze away from the flame, and instead upon the shimmering city it stood within.

Perhaps, she could learn something from this lamp.
To always remain warm.
To shine.

That would be nice.