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Like a Moth to the Flame

de Advent Sorrow

With flames I cure this curse
Like a moth to the flame

In the beginning
The watcher came from light
My vulnerable young mind
Descending into pitch black night
It came with darkness
Horror to be seen
Birthed from the wretched black
And cracking reality's seam
The watcher whispered laughter
And promised hope
I try to gather courage
But contemplate hanging from a rope
Left alone to rot
Just me and mother
The watcher taunting endlessly
To murder one or the other

I lost the last of myself that day
With no one to save me!
With flames I cure this curse
Like a moth to the flame
“Mother!? What have you become?!
Your face empty, your voice betrays me!?”
The watcher taking form of my mother
Her face is now nothing. Her breath cold and empty
“Imposter! Your face?! With my bare hands I will carve a smile on that face!”

My world falling before my eyes
Tearing through soft flesh with my fingertips
I lost the last of myself that day
Like a moth to the flame

Moments before I succumb to the devouring glow
The watcher returns, leaving mother’s remains in smoke
Motionless as the embers consume us both
Its face stares without eyes and watches me choke

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