Some people are like fire moths.

Born into desire.

Wrapped in all they could ever want.

Simply made of a coveted fire.

Never familiar with the dark.

Never knowing they had something to admire.

***

But what is left to do but flutter?

They have all that they need.

Do they have any goals?

Blind to all except other fire moths.

Do they forget how to struggle?

Eventually, they always give in and burn up.