In the morning light, he spread his wings,
Crafted with care, the dreams of kings.
Upward he soared, to touch the sky,
With hope and fire, his heart on high.

The sun’s embrace, a warm delight,
Drew him closer, a tempting sight.
But wax began to melt away,
As dreams turned dark in bright array.

Higher he flew, in the sun’s fierce glow,
Ignoring warnings from below.
The ocean called with whispers deep,
A cold embrace for dreams to sleep.

And as he fell, the world looked on,
At wings undone, a moment gone.
In tragic flight, his story sings,
Of Icarus and his broken wings.