Waxen Wings

 

Waxen Wings

 

No waxen wings can modify

The quiet hour which we die,

Nor can they bring us polished gold

Or shield the child from the cold

Of winter’s restless sky.

 

But can a man intensify

That fire burning in his eye

To taste the lips of heaven high

Among the clouds?  Our prophets scold:

“With waxen wings.”

 

There are some who seek to justify

The basis of a conscious lie,

From words that heaven had been sold

To those with wallets far more bold.

But I’ll be thinking my reply:

“Find waxen wings."

Reviews

[CarrieLynn {Chameleon A..]

beautiful write! :)

[Silent Kim aka mizmetap..]

Very nice. It was a good read clear and great flow.