icarus made the right decision

i think?

existence began; as a form of quantum fluctuations

in each thread of time and fate, i find myself spotting contradictions.

the universe is vast, and we will always know too little

the world's coming to an end anyway, so let us not be bitter.

but as long as there's breath, vacuuming the space in my lungs

as long as there's ambition, waking me up at the rising of the sun

i shall persist in my quest;

i do not know what, except deep in my gut.

there is a calling.

a voice, void, or demand?

i do not know that.

perhaps a deadly sin?

the greed for more and more.

or just the hand i'll never hold.

fly too high and the sun will burn your wings

(don't you know of icarus?)

stay on the ground and you'll be buried with your dreams

(history's repetitive nature is rigorous)

the choice may even be yours, but watch how destiny procures

the strings of your soul, your eyes your lips your nose

God sculpted your frame, then gave it over to fate

you're a master of the art, a story writer about to be in demand.

make the leap and take the fall.

you'll feel the peace yourself.

when you make it out and far.

when there's no one left to call.

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