When Icarus fell from the sky, I wonder what he thought. To be brought back down To the city he tried to flee. Of his failed attempt to fly, And all the pain it brought. To try and live only to down In the vast and empty sea. Or did he think that failure Was a victory in itself? To have grazed the sun Of which he had only seen from below. Had the pain opened another door That only opened if you will prove yourself And so that when he tried to run His freedom delivered the deathblow. So I think he found beauty in the pain, Finding joy in the near miss. And while dying he had freedom, So Icarus laughed as he fell.
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