Icarus fell from the path of moderation

An Ego-driven journey where the more subtle of sensations

were missed

The inner connections with the truth of nature

Not given priority, just didn’t feature

In the ecstatic pleasure of flying like a bird

That inner quiet voice could not be heard

drowned out

By the sound of his engine revving

And the thrill of the freedom to escape the prison

But of course Icarus, he had to fall

He’d become inhuman, stood too tall . . .

he crashed

and burned, in a heap of flames

Now things will never be the same