Icarus

Smoke in the wind soars icarus, he's lifted
He flies quite high, you know that he's gifted
Grasping the clouds unaware of his fall
Haughtily elevated, curiosity calls
And pleasures unnamed he knows for a while
Then the agony begins and his throat fills with bile
He aims for the sun with wings held aloft
But the connections all fail as the wax became soft
Then down hurdles Icarus, towards Gaia he falls
The wraiths take no notice amidst their bleak halls
In his dire need for the divine in his grasp
He overlooked one, just one tiny clasp
The clasp of restraint betwixt wax and the wings
His fate he has sealed knowing not what it brings
Not discerning the entrance, nor where he has gone
From ignorance of action, he no longer belongs
His soul ever tortured because of his choices
The lamentations quite lost in the din of their voices
Such ends the sad tale of Icarus the proud
Oh such a tragedy, he oft cried aloud