I wrote this a long while ago, when I was going through a phase of life full of upheavals. All characters may or may not be based on real people, but everything is mostly symbolic. 

Little worthless peppered moth keeps flinging itself into the light knowing full well it would kill him. His soul seeped out through his perforated shell existence, he who was not himself anymore. He changed too much too fast- too much agony, too much ecstasy; he longed for a life of solitude.

He saw the dark princess in her high tower, her heart the deepest darkest black, a heart of stone, absolutely and purely evil, yet unbeknownst to her. 

Handsome seeker, with his riches and promises and silver tongue did ascend the stairs of the tower and win her over, and the little peppered moth heard his existence tear apart in front of him; he was but a moth, slow, ugly and faceless, with no world of his own. He still flung himself into the light for he knew he must kill a bit of himself to find a bit of himself so he could finally appreciate himself. 

Before this morbid “revelation” could kill him he did chance upon another chance. He thought he’s get a new life, but the light still blinded his thoughts. The evils of the dark princess and her new handsome suitor stung and burned and seared his tiny moth wings, he tried to love himself and the other but his thoughts floated around in his mind like dark apocalyptic clouds, like a chain binding his weakened psyche, not letting go, not letting him go. 

So, if one finds such a needlessly morose peppered moth floating around blindingly shiny lights lit by dark princesses while having so obviously found a cause, yet burdened by nonexistent worries –

Put him in a dark box. 

He will perhaps find some solitude, his “true self” even. But beware, 

When you touch and hold the wings of a moth, some of the color rubs off on you.