night moth

A night moth's flying around
Closer to the lamp - wings singed,
Then it falls lightly to the ground
Wings burnt, tiny legs cringed.

Will the lamp let out a lament?
Or will it just keep on shining
Upon wings singed without intent
While pretending it was silver lining?

So tell me, moth, how does it feel
When it's your longing you wrestle
And it kills when it's meant to heal
And the world looks on at your hassle.