Feathers to Spare

Like a moth to a burning flame,

I keep getting burnt

One feather at a time.

I wonder how many more I can burn.



Ask me my favourite colour

And I'll tell you

It's the colour of cinder just before it disappears

Because that is the colour of reality

See it through my eyes ;

One of these days, you'll understand.



One of these days, I will too.

Till then, let me stoke the flames...

There're a lot more feathers I can spare.