The curse of flight

like Icarus too close to the sun

One comes crashing down

down down to the abyss

The curse of freedom

free to go up the rocks

or to the lighthouse

but never to leave

The curse of being a false god

once one had a choice

But their wings took them to the pantheons

and the golden spirals rejected their own

No good vessel

none to hold the curse

Just to hold the wings

in the shadows, in the abyss

a false god holds the curse of flight