Icari (Woebegone)

For a man so free that light encompasses
There with him solace levitating besides his yellow wings
From there it speaks with its harrowing presence
Not a voice nor a sound but only a sightly sign
His freedom brims, his body tucks into itself
For flesh is weak that no freedom shall abide
A prison yet still even including his masticating aileron
An oxymoron, wherever it begins

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