My hopes are the same as the ones that Icarus had,
Those mad impossible fantasies that always seem to make me glad, but the wax is dripping now,
My fantasies slipping out from within my grasp,
Hand holds slipping through the clouds I try to clasp,
My back reaching out to envelop and kiss the earth,
My decent a curse, as I watch those burning shining hopes fall away,
That Sun that brings me horror of night; so much longer than the day,
And all the way down I’m wishing I’d never flew so high,
Piercing and plummeting down and through the empty sky,
Why I’d ever tried to be something I could never be,
Feathers falling all about and away from me,
Every reason it could of and did go wrong for me to see,
Falling further and farther down from fantasy I wonder why,
Why it was that I, had ever dared to fly.