There once was
a moth that
had wings
of crystal
and when
he tried to fly,
he always dropped to the ground
and shattered into a million pieces.

Sometimes, I feel like that moth.

But I look into your
eyes and see
the
magic
that rests there
and I remember that
moths are beautiful, and
even when broken, crystals
are beautiful, too.

I chose you
Like the butterfly
Chose the sun.
Like the moth is
Nocturnally drawn
To the moon
And any other
Illuminated illusion.
Frenetically chasing
In a trance-like dance,
We wade through
Day and night
Like winged creatures.
Expressive messengers,
Speaking a language
In metaphor
Available to all
Who can hear
Symbols and scriptures
Written by an architect
Keen enough on details
To give day and night
Its doting darlings.

I'm a person in whom you see;
a friend, a lover and a compeer,
The letters you type late night
on keypad comes to me,
And when the power cuts and
your mind starts making phantoms
you dial my number,
Late-night cravings, scholarly discussion,
A video call in the morning,
And on a certain day, a certain moment
I bend on my knee and ask you to be mine
forever. And you, nod in YESSSS!!!!!!

Ah! Love, thou unruly dictator!
I sat to read for exams
instead started dreaming a dream
of some other world.

I'm mad, hopeless, pathetic,
and sometimes sounds creepy too,
But how can I comfort
the sad, deluding, and longing heart?
Is there any medicine or herb?
How can I love and hide the flame of it
from you?
I'm doomed like a moth
flinging myself deliberately into fire.

Like a tiny moth
I am drawn to these pages
To perish in flame

Oh ugly butterfly
They think less of you

When you were a caterpillar
There was hope
The children caught you
Placed you in a jar
Picked you leaves
And watched you grow

Hatched
From a cocoon
Sprouted wings
But "oh no"
They were not colorful

The children released you
Just let you go
"Fly away ugly butterfly"
They scream and shout
"We do not love you
for you are not beautiful"

What is a moth if not a butterfly
who's traded in her grace and colour
for pitter-patter sighs
Inked nights
To sift shy in shadows
And forever thirst for light
Soft Laughs in Dim lit taverns
Almost winked out flames
She's the tattered mistress of stars
forgotten partaker
Of a lesser praise