The "New Icarus Syndrome" Claims Way Too Many...A Poem by The Lovely Sound Of CrashingAlas, my wings were made of wax...
The mirror reflects a fool,
With amber eyes, dull from the truth. Burnt out from naive dream chasing, And following blank roads which were SUPPOSED to lead to granted desires! Instead, he ended up here, In this dimly lit room, Wondering where he went wrong... Was it his doing? Were the things that crushed his high hopes, His own idiocy for attempting flight with wax wings? Soaring toward a lovely destiny, Too hot for his own hands to touch! More than anything he could handle! But GOD he wanted it more than anything! It made him feel so ALIVE! He took that chance! Without a wave of hesitation, He escaped the shackles of the ground! So close, yet so far away... His fingers could almost grasp it! They could almost curl around that ball that glowed mighty in the sky! He wanted to be within that space, To be one with the glow! Instead... His wings melted. And he fell. Oh, how he fell. He felt the sky he once loved so dearly, Spew him back down toward the ground in rejection. Spiraling, twisting, hurling back down... BOOM! Welcome to Earth. Welcome back to reality. Ain't it a b***h? © 2008 The Lovely Sound Of CrashingFeatured Review
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Added on July 7, 2008Last Updated on July 7, 2008 AuthorThe Lovely Sound Of CrashingMiramar, FLAboutDEAR FRIENDS: I forgot my password for this profile and I just recently remembered it. I started a new writerscafe page and I decided I would just stick with it since I posted so much of my newer s.. more..Writing
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