Upon the azure skies so high,
Icarus flew, his spirit nigh.
With wings of wax and fervent dreams,
He soared above the ocean’s gleam.

The sun, a beacon, warm and bright,
Beckoned him to reach its light.
But fervent zeal and hubris tall,
Led him to his fateful fall.

As feathers melted in the blaze,
He plummeted through heaven’s haze.
The sea embraced him, cold and deep,
A silent grave where he would sleep.

A cautionary tale to all,
Of pride before the humble fall.
To dream, but heed the warning clear,
The sun’s allure may cost you dear.