fauxcroft

At midnight

I sit by a night light

Watching months in their flight,

Being attracted to the glow

And in a suicidal flow,

They are drawn in

Because they worship the light,

And maybe it’s their plight

To die by lamplight at midnight,

But where’s the sense in this

As I sit here watching,

Thinking what the point of all this

Is there a reason to exist,

When life ends up so

Pointlessly extinguished.