There is a moth

There is a moth
banging its head, against the light bulb in my mind, that said, I wouldn't want it to go away, stray, to another light source, stay, with me, please, keep tapping, rapping that rhythmic melody. Its fandango, tango, amuses me, the flapping of its wings, inspire, the choir of voices, to sing to me. A cathedral of echoes, i don't fully understand, comprehend, admittance, of the shrink wrapped sustenance. Fed. rally, and gather the forces, causes, petition and gist.
There is a moth
eating at my, sloth, slug, like, and yet angry, hungry and destructive, reconstructive, markings, its path with rainbow piss. Follow it, I dare you to, skid in it, drown in it, circumvent your it in it.
This is a children's story
There are no folk in the far away tree anymore. They grew up and began to explore the land above the clouds, that shrouds them now. They drew new pictures in their heads, when they were not forced, the historical ideals of a passing, ancient, yesteryear.
They witnessed nature in action, the transaction, of a caterpillar, eating, to form a cocoon, a nest, a hiber nation, sensation, to explore beyond, the naive teachings of under developed imaginations, and scientific explanations, developed and written amongst the humans evolved and creative cloth.
There is a moth.