Work Text:
The Forsaken Icarus
Icarus,
the tale of a boy.
He yearned for freedom,
beyond what he had been given.
Flying high into the sky;
tendrils if cloud,
clawing at his face.
They whispered into his ears,
gleeful voices,
excited to see him soar.
His vibrant smile,
a smile one can only use once.
He was greedy;
he wanted more than he had,
and for that he fell.
A searing pain erupting over his skin.
Burning feathers,
melted wax;
flames crawling up every inch of his body.
They roared in his ears,
desperate for kindling,
desperate for more.
In a way,
they were both the same.
They wanted more,
they wanted to feel the glee
of that first step.
The glee of that first taste,
of what they were never meant to have.
Icarus would be burned.
His skin would be charred,
his face melted beyond recognition.
His wings,
his freedom,
taken.
His face,
though lost,
would be remembered
as a cautionary tale.
Told to children,
like him.
The fire would be extinguished.
It’s flames that had once roared,
flaring high into the sky,
consuming all it touched.
Would be forever gone,
only remembered as
a side character
to the one it had consumed.
It’s ancestors,
used to provide sustenance
for the kind of the very on it had
eaten itself.
Both forgotten,
but remembered all the same.