TELL ME…

Why is it that the moon is the backdrop for romantic interludes
When the sun is the setting for a blazing death

Why is it that a spark aspires to be kindled
When the fire it grows into desires to be doused

Why is that toxic toadstools are blessed with the fairy tale immortality of pixie dust
When mushrooms can only hallucinate a similar future while being consumed into nothingness

Why is it that a galloping equine elicits wondrous sighs
When a load-bearing asinine is damned with derisive disdain

Why is it that doves populate our dreams as symbols of peace
When ravens are harbingers of death and the subject of nightmares

Why is it that eyes are noticed, with rapturous odes praising their beauty
When the hands that compose them are unseen

Why is it that lawyers, penmen of the cold and convoluted, live lives of wealth
When poets, fine wordsmiths of verses that breathe emotion, die in penury

Why is it that the butterfly can flit happily from flower to flower seeking ambrosia-like nectar
When the destiny of a moth is merely to be martyred by the flame

Why is it that a honeybee, inspite of , is cursed to sting and die
When an overly aggressive wasp can spread its venom many times over

Why is it that one man carries the torch
When his fellow brother bears the cross