he sneers at the sun in ambitious spite:
his hands are smooth, porcelain, and fragile.
within his eyes, a tenacious fire glows bright,
with his wings of wax, he is nothing but agile.
liberty tastes momentarily sweet;
the salty waves below crash in endless beat.
from his father's lips escape a cry of anguish
while the boy looks back with a grin—impish.
o, little did he know of his impending doom
as his wings of wax melted, unfolding as a flower in bloom.
icarus feels the sharp air zip by his ears
each plummeting second, confirming his looming fears.
the collision produces an unbearably faint splash
as icarus' quick life was snuffed out in a flash.
About the Creator
ruth
"She could not, however, spend much time looking back; what was coming into view in the forward direction was too exciting."
(C.S. Lewis)
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