Song of Icarus
Aten, worshipped by Amenhotep wise,
your warmth serves as consolation for me,
and always breathing life on all you see.
Still, concern rises within as my eyes;
behold these waxen wings melt as I rise.
Feathers glide toward the unforgiving sea.
As he had asked and I did not agree
I watch below as he so safely flies.
O wondrous sun, who melts this man-made wing,
though you end my life I truly thank you;
for being a treasure so seldom seen.
I, Icarus, though falling swiftly sing
songs of the great star whose promise stands true
to warm this cold world so others may dream.