Oh, Icarus, my brother,
Does it matter?
But I too have hungered for the sun.
Oh, Icarus, my brother,
Are dreams reserved for the gods?
Can’t fools also dream?
Oh, Icarus, my brother,
Which were you—
With your wings made of wax?
Does it matter?
The results are still the same;
God or fool,
We all spiral down in flames.
A mind's striker! This composition takes one for a trip to awareness on wings of imagination...
In admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Be safe,
Karen