Chasing Hope
By Madeline Heuss
Born of the wrong home
A moth crawls out with a moan
Looking at the darkness that surrounds
There is a spark of light at a hill’s crown
As the moth rises into the air
A shriek behind raises his hair,
The demons of the night
Chase him, ready to strike,
As the moth pushes on
All thoughts gone,
Replaced by the shrieks behind
His only thought is to reach the light,
The light looms
As the moth is running from his doom,
A shrieking wisp
Clips his wing’s tip
The moth loses his height,
With all his might
He rises over the hill
The shrieks are killed,
Collapsing on the grass
The night begins to pass
The moth begins to transform
And a new species is born
As the butterfly dances in the light
He can never forget the moth’s fight.