I am Icarus

I always wake up with tears on my pillow,

From the troubled spirit of Daedalus.

Each night, Daedalus tries to fill my dreams,

He cries endlessly as he thinks I am Icarus.

Well,

I never complain, for you see,

We help each other,

To no longer feel so empty.

Daedalus had all but lost hope,

After an eternity of lost years.

He could find no place to contain,

The endless oceans of his tears.

Then, one stormy night, a crow,

Whispered to Daedalus.

I know of a bottomless pit,

Where you can cry for Icarus.

A child of man who is so hollow,

Even your many tears can never fill.

Deep, empty places reside in him,

Now, Daedalus, do as you will.

I always wake up with tears on my pillow,

From the troubled spirit of Daedalus.

Each night, Daedalus tries to fill my dreams,

He cries endlessly as he thinks I am Icarus.

Well,

I never complain, for you see,

We help each other,

To no longer feel so empty.

Each night, Daedalus tries to fill my dreams,

He cries endlessly as …

He thinks,

He thinks,

He thinks I am Icarus.

© 2025 John Osinga. All rights reserved. St. Thomas, Ontario, Canada.