Cognitive-behavior
social monarch
impending moth.
Wings torn from their roots,
study the experimentation.
Everything is going alright.
Going where is necessary,
practicing all the correct procedures
keeping a iron bar melded to mouth.
Don't you dare speak,
no one can hear.
But everything is fine, I swear.
I'm just feeling a little...overwhelmed
maybe the downcast of disorder,
I can't tell for sure yet.
Its like floating above open water
jagged rocks underneath the ice,
I'm looking at it from someplace else
but secretly waiting for the haze to clear.
The plummets always occur at an outstanding height,
if you haven't already noticed.
Your wings are only there to lift you up
so you can see how far you'll fall.
The impact may be breathtaking,
the beauty of death insured
gripping tightly to untamed insects --
after all, we prey just like them.
Now everything is going black....
the moments are racing by
I have a few seconds to think of a memento for this
(Ah, yes)
The Point of Recognition.
