The Waxen Prayer (Icarus)
The sun, a golden eye within the blue,
Beholds the boy who dares to touch the flame.
With wings of feathered white and waxen glue,
He seeks a path no mortal man should claim.
The sea below is but a silver sheet,
While higher still the thinning air grows cold;
He feels the warmth where sky and fire meet,
A reckless spirit, beautiful and bold.
But soon the binding tears beneath the heat,
The feathers drift like snow upon the gale;
The triumph turns to bitter, swift defeat,
As light begins to flicker and to pale.
A lonely splash beneath the burning sun,
His journey ends before it has begun.
The Song of Salt and Bone (The Sirens)
Upon the jagged rocks where mist resides,
A melody drifts soft across the wave;
It pulls against the rhythm of the tides,
To lead the weary to a silent grave.
With voices spun from silver and from silk,
They promise rest to those who roam the deep;
Their skin is pale as winter’s morning milk,
While in their eyes a thousand secrets sleep.
The sailor turns his helm toward the sound,
Forgetful of the home he left behind;
Until the wooden hull is run aground,
And madness takes the tether of his mind.
The music fades into the crashing spray,
Where bone and brine are all that remain to stay.
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