{"sf1_id":688497,"sf2_id":"J1O6QX2n","title":"Zap","author":"Diavora","words":56,"posted_at":"2014-04-04T01:50:00.000Z","tags":["Poem","Poetry","Rhyme","weird"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/688497-zap","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/J1O6QX2n","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/be/60/be60aa08-76d4-49d8-ab8b-757445d6a2c1","description":"Short, silly, weird thing I write-doodled up for lack of anything else.\nI really dislike moths in the house. Pity a bug-zapper wouldn't handle the problem.\nThey keep coming out of the pantry from some kind of moth-dimension.\nNot my best, kinda odd, but its a thingie.","content":"The light that brightest burns,  \nis always shortest by far.  \nAnd what a furnace burns in yonder star,  \nthat its light pierces daylight's turns.  \n  \nAnd too late I find,  \nthat my insectile mind,  \n  \nHas lead me to a clever trap,  \nbuilt by unknown hands.  \nNo matter how hard I flap  \nI enter death's bright, hot hands.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}