Wish if I were Minerva's owl,
riding dusk departure off my toe.
By Hegel's drifted thoughts a halt,
amid sparkles of ideas in awe.
Riding this ever-ascending firework show,
as high as seven heavens go.
Endowed with flame from Sol,
diving and burning through the thousands of my foe.
Behold,
I'm Icarus who cheated old.
Omnes moriuntur.