And I see him now,

Surrounded at the gates,

Sentenced like Socrates,

Refusing to flee.

My poor, sweet Icarus, my

Love, you flew too close,

You spoke too soon.

The guards take their aim.

Dizzy from wine,

I stagger forward,

Towards light,

Towards darkness,

Towards you.

And, an in instant,

I know heaven and hell all at once.