Measly moth of my soul enter Love's flame,
Ever ready to devour you in its fire,
Flame's your burning in the holy Name,
To be consumed so, is highest desire.
Don't be afraid poor mouldy moth to die,
To be eaten by flame is sheerest bliss,
You'll enter a new life in which to fly,
Transformed by Love's fiery burning kiss..
After your death no questions will remain,
You've entered a murky moth's best place,
To be fried alive in the flame of the Name,
Is soul's transformation, the highest grace.
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