You're like a little senseless moth
So drawn to ardent flames.
You fly too close to know for a fact
That peril won't prevail.
Don't fool yourself. It's not the Moon.
Your wings are getting hot.
That fire will consume your soul
And make your body rot.
It's not too late to turn around
You can escape more pain.
There won't be mercy taken up
If fire starts his reign.
Succumbed by fatal flames she flew,
Not listening to advice,
She kept denying that some time
He'll lead her to demise.
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