Moth

Just something off my playlist to end a drought of posts...

Thought I was different and it seems I'm just the same
As a game I put my hand over the flame
I thought I was smarter as I flew into the sun
But it turned out the way it does with everyone

I love the heat I love the things that I forgot
I love the strings that tie me down and cut me off
I was a king, I was a moth with painted wings made of cloth
When did the flame burn so high and get so hot?

I don't fly around your fire anymore...