Not Icarus

I was soaring
High above the bodies
Leaving behind
Life’s boulders, seas and sand
Its gold triangles
And broken drumsticks

I was flying
In draughts of darkness
In me – my consciousness
Said nothing
As I looked for the sun
To guide me

I began to find some light
Like a child pretending to fly
I could see the land beneath
Like a kite I had eyes

Nothing burning, nothing breaking
I was free in my airy penthouse
I escaped without melting
I woke up without dying

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances. View all posts by blackbird212012