Be there more beauty held in one’s own eye <br />When God has taken the colour from the sky? <br />Should we flutter in light, a shade with no name, <br />‘Til we’re burnt by love - like a Moth and Flame? <br /> <br />‘Twas with this beauty that he turned blind, <br />Her beauty, in turn, left not her lips nor mind. <br />They loved in dreams, but their fate couldn’t be: <br />For she couldn’t speak and he couldn’t see. <br /> <br />Thus sang he once of bread and wine, <br />When sight returned, but no image divine. <br />And a prayer, found scribbled in a book: <br />For she who didn’t speak and he who didn’t look. <br /> <br />And just the same, I heard her sing <br />With the smell of a burning soul or wing, <br />“Be it us, not God, whom the sky should blame! ” <br />That age old song of a Moth and Flame.<br /><br />Ella Veyes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/of-moths-and-flames/
