I saw the shadow of Icarus on the wall
Did he know he was not the first to fall
Hubris… pride… arrogance… hardly new concepts

He stretched his fingers up high
Trying so hard to touch the sky
To touch something far beyond his precepts

He was young and he would live forever
With wings they fashion of wax and feather
No knowing the gods are jealous of their creation

They sit in the sky on iron thrones
Imprisoned by their own gravestones
And wishing that they could also reach for ascension

Wax will melt and men with fall
Forgetting that it comes to us all
And certain that we will be immortal

As he fell down, I saw his shadow
Black on the fields in the valley so low
Unprepared… unwilling… unaware… of the cost