The Arrogance of Wings
Lament for Icarus, by Herbert James Draper
It’s not the sun that caused his fall,
though it did melt the wax.
It’s not the feathers that failed;
they were useless without the wax.
It’s not the fall that killed him,
but it did steal his breath.
It’s not even the fault
of the rock that broke
No, Atropos had cut his thread
for the arrogance he embodied.
Both the inventor and his son
strove too high, reached too far.
It was not done to make your own wings.
If the gods permitted you into their sky;
they provided the means.
So certain in your invincibility;
sure that not even the sun
could cause you harm.
Cast from the sky,
dashed upon the rocks,
a broken body and featherless wings.
Even the muses mourn the golden boy
and lament the lesson learned.
Human arrogance will always fall
before the power of the truly Almighty.
© 2014 Casey Cooper