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Marcus Nordlund
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Icarus
I don't know but I've been told
the universe is mighty cold：
when gravity gives in to you
you hover in the icy blue.
So haul me in,
you jealous mound,
and press my face
into the ground.
I've been scaling the clouds
with a cloven hoof
for I never thought that the sky
had a roof.
If I sinned against the cold decree
that you are not what you can be,
and that lie gave wings to my desire
the same has set my wings on fire.
So haul me in,
you jealous mound,
and press my face
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into the ground.
I've been scaling the clouds
with a cloven hoof
for I never thought that the sky
had a roof.
If there's one thing I am loath to do
it's scratch upon the face of you:
I'll dig into your molten core
to find what I am looking for.
So haul me in,
you jealous mound,
and press my face
into the ground.
I've been scaling the clouds
with a cloven hoof
for I never thought that the sky
had a roof.
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