How doth the little moth
Fly high up in the sky?
Flitting gently from light to light
It seems to find pleasure and delight.
How does he fly with so llittle care?
Clumsy and such, but STILL doesn't care
What anyone thinks about its wings,
Its grey little wings like darkness things.
The moth can be free to fly
and fly
and fly.
If God's little moth can be free,
Then why, oh why can't I?
If I had the chance, I would do a little test.
I would load my troubles 'pon the moth,
And no one can guess,
Would he fly?
Or fall?
Or just sit by me here,
And be my little moth forever with me near?
He would share MY troubles
And never
Fly
Again.
Not me.
Nor I.
Nor this little moth of mine.