When true death is a crime and out of our reach
Our sanities bought by a dime, have continued to breach
All that we sought and our one desire
To be lit by the flames of the funeral pyre
We envy the dead, covet the cadaver
And still we expect to fly higher and higher
Love, don’t you see that wax is still wax?
Even muscle and tendon are cut by the ax
And my heart won’t listen to the words that I shout
“Don’t fly close to the sun, or your time will be out!”
And I beat my wings breathlessly, if only to fall
As I sink in the ocean, I hear only your call
Death’s not a game, but self-destruction’s my play
The cheap sanity I own is beginning to fray
Soon I’ll be left with only a string
And perhaps a lone feather from my once white wing
Wood ribbing is buoyant, but my body does sink
And water logged feathers, are useless... I think.
As the wax melted away, so did my shell
And before I die, I shall put you through hell
So my love, I scream, from these dark depths
Escape while you can, put between us wide breadths
So if you leave now, I’ll hold you no grudge
For with ends impending I refuse to budge
My hope is now gone, and with water, my fire
And all I can scream, is “My love, don’t fly higher!”
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