The Moth and the Candle

Consume each archetype to which you give your name
Breathe in its characteristics, absorb its ideals
Use them each day, for understanding, for communication
A touchstone of common reference, a place of meeting
Of our ideas and hopes, our dreams and aspirations
Never realised but all reached for.
Each carpace of hope interlocks with another
Mostly briefly, nonsensically, incomprehensibly
And sometimes it is more, confusing to a depth
Beyond understanding where the people have drowned,
Suffered a death and gone on moving as before.
The models move in choreographed, careful motions
On the chessboard of our society,
Where being seen is the purpose of the game
The visual is king, ruler of all
Each model slotted into a pigeonhole of their own asking
Which do they recognise first? Their own or the others
The answer is obvious when you consider whom they reject