Rebecca gilbert is from the UK, currently studying in her second year of an undergraduate degree at Lancaster University. She has loved reading and writing for most of her life, and hopes to one day become a teacher to share this passion with others.
I wonder how Daedalus felt as he watched his sons body plummet to the ground with hot wax and feathers floating from the sun; the only temporary marks Icarus managed to create. I wonder did he mourn for his sons future? did he cry for the years Death had stolen from him or did he know that it never really mattered for Icarus had lived life as a ghost loving only one he had failed to reach when it actually mattered. I wonder did his Gods watch him fly? had Daedalus whispered hushed prayers to his own before whispering hushed warnings on Icarus’ deaf ears, I wonder had Icarus prayed for the autonomy he was finally granted? They say he laughed as he fell but do you think this was what he wanted? do you think he wanted this death induced fame? Did he know there is no glory in being anonymous, in surviving when no one knows you exist? His body may have fallen but at least now he had loved
Forgive me I had always seen the fates bloodied thread dragging you down to the waves thrashing in anticipation ready to consume your weak body, to clean the remnants of hot wax from your burnt skin I'm sorry I forget how fragile you mortals are, with your damaged wings and delicate bodies, you are not made to love Gods Icarus, you were not made to love me. It was never meant to be. Us Gods are fickle creatures. we cannot love like you do, like it is the only thing to give you glory, our love is not glorious it is painful like the searing heat of my sun. Because passion is just another fire and love just another flame that burns.