Two black and grey tattoo design sketches on paper, a winged moth with eyes above a ram's head framed by a triangle and geometric lines.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Moth and ram head tattoo designs

Geometric · Black and grey · Flash

Two pencil or ink drawings of tattoo designs sit on paper against a dark background. The upper design shows a moth with eyes across its wings, and the lower design shows a ram's head with curled horns, a central triangle and fine geometric lines. The work uses fine linework with shaded hatching and no colour, and the two designs are arranged one above the other.

Geometric Moth Eye Ram Goat Triangle Geometric line Sketch

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Tuesday, 14 February. The moths came in again after the 9.12 had gone through without stopping, and I counted them against the lamp the way Mother counted her beads. Eleven tonight, each with four great painted eyes spread across its wings, staring at me as if I had been the one who left the door open. Mr Oddie at the goods yard says they follow the coal smoke up from the sidings and that the eyes are only a trick of the scales. He said the same about the ram.

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The ram belongs to the stationmaster's brother, Abel Renshaw, who keeps a black-faced billy in the field behind the yard and swears it can smell a train forty minutes before the whistle. Abel had its horns coaxed into curls by a farrier from Mirfield, and he hangs a brass triangle from the signal post so the animal knows when to come down for its oats. Last Thursday it stood at the crossing with its head lowered, staring at the 4.40 as if it meant to bar the line, and the driver had to brake hard. Nobody was hurt. Abel said the goat was only doing its job.

I have resolved to write to the company in the morning and ask them to send someone who knows what the triangle is for. I have also resolved not to sleep in the box.

When I went out at midnight to trim the wick, the moths had gone quiet on the glass, every pair of eyes turned one way, down the empty line towards the old tunnel. Beyond the rails the ram stood in the field with its head raised, and the triangle on the post caught the lamplight once, then again, like a bell waiting for a train that was not due.