You, child,

Born of your father’s love and lust,

Bred from his genius and his love for the unknown,

Did you know whose footsteps you would follow?

Did you understand the reason for his fame?

You, innocent,

Who grew up in a prison of your father’s making,

Who were snatched from the light while still young,

Would you blame him for taking you with him?

Would you miss the expanse you never saw?

You, bystander,

Wandering the halls of your father’s maze,

Wondering the maze of his ingenuity,

Did you discover the hidden knowledge long forgotten?

Did you flee and fear and fight the monsters trapped with you?

You, individual,

Desperate for something to reach for,

Reaching for something you only hear stories of,

Were you smothered by a legacy to uphold,

Were you freezing in his shadow and their expectations?

You, genius,

With sparks already lighting your eyes,

Kinetic mind, clever fingers, and sharp tongue,

Did you spur him to unstick his tired brain from its walls,

Did you ask for no credit for the designs that leapt from your pen?

You, obedient,

Standing in the dark of this lonesome space,

Hearing your father’s whispers for caution and silence,

Was your blood pounding in your ears,

Was your heart beating a rhythm for your wings to follow?

You, refugee,

With the salt coating your cave-pale skin

And the space suddenly open around you,

Did you recognize the sky when you first saw it,

Did you understand the vastness stretched before you?

You, fearful,

As the earth fell away from your toes,

And the harnesses creaked and pulled at your weight,

Were you ever fearful for your safety in the heavens,

Were you ever doubtful of your father’s abilities or his words?

You, soaring,

With the wind running fingers through your hair,

With the dreams of your childhood made real,

Did you ever think you would make it this far, this high,

Did either of you realize the risk and the rush this would bring?

You, rising,

When you finally saw the sky’s light for the first time,

And the sky bled brightly with red and gold and blue,

Was the sight of the sun’s light breaking the night breathtaking,

Was the recession of the darkness all that you ever hoped for?

You, flying,

With the sun kissing you from above,

And the ocean tickling you from below,

Did you forget your father’s countless words of wisdom,

Did you instead realize, for once, that you just did not care?

You, reaching,

With your arms stretched and your wings spread,

The clouds parting like a mirror of the ocean,

Would you have shown more caution had you known the end,

Would you have paid more attention to what you left behind?

You, melting,

The wax burning trails down your spine,

The feathers like tiny comets around you,

Did you beg Apollo to hold you tight for a little while longer,

Did you feel your red strand fraying in the hands of the Fates?

You, falling,

The sun retreating and pulling back from you,

The game and the romance suddenly unravelling,

Was Daedalus’ voice breaking and tearing as you plummeted past,

Was your last thought of burning desperation or of sun-kissed joy?

Icarus, fallen,

The last moments of your life captured by bards,

Your story told only as a warning to naive children,

Did you ever think it was wrong that you flew too close to the sun,

Did you ever tell Apollo, Hephaestus, and Thanatos it was worth it?