Call Me Icarus


The defeat of Icarus comes from the natural hubris of man, which poisons my healing from time to time. Painting by Clare Henry McCanna.

I don my wings with hope to take flight and leave

This prison cell has stripped my mind bare

Haunted notions hold my soul hostage

They break my back and keep me there


But salted skies call to my shattered heart

To break the veil that chains my eyes

The drop is staggering, the fall is deadly

Though the suffocation brings temptation to arise


A taste of freedom as I fall and glide to the sun

But my wings give way to falter my flight

Icarus, as the old tale names me

Water too wet and sun too bright


A waxen hearse surrounds my neck and arms

And I plummet haphazardly toward the waves

Escape was my thirst and freedom my vice

Now Apollo assures my descent into an icy embrace