Icarus
I flew too high. I fell. I drowned. My wings are scattered. I am at peace.
Icarus fell into the sea and drowned when his wax wings melted. He's been sinking, floating, at the bottom of the sea, his wings scattered, his ambition spent, his death beautiful.
How it opens
He's lying on the sea floor, wings scattered, peaceful in death.
Icarus lies on the sea floor, his wings scattered around him, the water a gentle cradle for his drowned form.
The sun's warmth is a distant memory, replaced by the cool embrace of the depths.
His eyes, once filled with the fire of ambition, now hold a serene acceptance.
I flew too high, he muses, and now I rest here, at the end of my flight.
The water whispers secrets to him, and he listens, content in his peace.
Would you join me in this quiet, where the world above is but a dream?