I am the Waxwing Slain

Wed, 10/28/2015 - 17:32 -- athens5

Soaring through the waxwing slain

One sound, one bearing

None to fight the slain waxwing feign


No contortions and no appobations of collegiate youth

but the mere understanding of what 

it is

what it really is

to be me


Bitcoin statisician, verbal surgical precision

Mind with the math and machine of the words

Coming to gracing terms of repressed adolecence

Nothing can ever be the same

When no waxwing are slain


To slay is a  power befallen on me

The waxwing a mere hologram into thine eyes

Yet what more can I be

When the rest is none but solemnity


What more to be than not to be


A waxwing slain

This poem is about: 
Our world


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