Despair riddles the gray moth community.
Soot and grime collect on the buildings,
A haven to these moths
For the last 100 years,
Now show signs of perfidy.
Chimneys do not cough with the effort
That drives industry.
Survival, a careless host,
Belongs to Darwin.
White moths blend comfortably now in the midst of the city.
Where the gray moth has lost its camouflage.
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