MOTH

Simple, inexplicable, inseparable.
Between sunrise and sunset,
between the beginning and end.
Love is a caterpillar that is rhythmically
off between the customs and makes instincts.
The metamorphosis
is the way to trick the gods.
Conversion of a desire to exist,
and like water, it becomes many things,
but its essence is more intimate empathy.
The chrysalis is empty,
the night supports its flight.
On its wings is written
the story of an emotion will perish.
The end and the time
seeking a meeting to obey the destiny.
Yet she knows how to fly
far from understood.
Beats frenetic, perceptions.
For these reasons it is...moth.