Icarus

wings together sing like a song
voices joined together at dawn
like a bird flying in the sky
circles to the sun always so high
but icarus flew too close
to the sun his wings did smoke
and he fell like gravity down
like some hail pound in the ground

icarus went a whisper on the wind
covering the valleys and the clouds when
he saw the sun outside his touch
he wanted the fire very much
upward his wings were turned
failing to remember lessons learned
for his memories of the past
like his wings were made of wax

he went a whisper on the wind
feeling the breeze in remembrance
of the time before his wings did float
beating like wounded rabbits in the snow
forgetting he was a child of the ground
with wings painted on like smile's clown
he floated upward on the horizon
eyes mesmerized by the sun

the morning came the morning spent
like a soul lost inside a tent
he flew until at last he broke
when his wings finally choked
beneath all of the wicked words
of heat making him return
he fell silent through the clouds
a blur of melted wax feather shroud

if the day lights were night time
and stars with water did shine
if all the rocks were made of wood
then myths could do more than they should
if the shortest distance was day
this would be more than something to say
but little is possible for us
than to fall like poets and icarus