The Tale of Icarus

Soaring over the sea
Wings of wax and feather
My father flying below
Warning of warm weather.
But I have freedom at last!
Freedom to do as I please
I can twirl and whirl around
In this wonderful breeze.

“Do not go higher!”
My father gives the shout
But he knows nothing
Of what freedom is truly about.
I shall be king of the world
With these wondrous wings
And never be brought down
By onerous things.
Suddenly I feel great warmth
Spreading over me
And some of the spray
From the far below sea.

But what is this?
The sea is dangerously near
My wings have stopped working
Excitement drowned by fear.
“Icarus!” Is the scream
My father helplessly gives
But by then I am gone
Daedalus’ son no longer lives.