Why do I,
You may ask,
always look to the bright side?
And why
am I not feared of the dark?
Such questions arise.
For I am in the tunnel,
The only path
is toward the light;
And because I am myself the darkness,
I can’t be afraid, can I?

Like a moth hovering the lamp shade
but never reaching the flame,
I look to you and clearly know it,
You cannot be what I aim.

There is no start, nor is there an end.
You are my interlude,
and I your mere friend.
Had the flame burned down the lamp shade,
the moth would die in that ignited romance.


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