Why does the moth fly in the flame? 
What powers does it wield? 
Perhaps the lights dance in its eyes
Whene'er the smiles do yield. 

Perhaps its hands are strong and firm
Yet delicately pressed intwined. 
Perhaps their touch is just as soft
When it whispers "You are mine."

Perhaps its voice soft and smooth 
Leaves the moth without her breath. 
Perhaps a smile engulfing the flame
Can put a jaded soul to death.  

I think it's the warmth from inside the flame
Blanketing its love over all it holds dear.  
The moth can't resist your charm or your call
The paths are laid out and fates are made clear.   

To touch it will scar.  To touch it will scorch. 
But hold him she must whatever the course.  
To kiss him so deep.  To touch him so soft
Ignites a new magic deep in the source.