No euphony dwells with my lisp,
My ambition's will-o'-the-wisp;
A gasping grasp at tunnel-light.
Mirages beat me in the fight.
My flimsy Icarian wings
Are cobbled from deceptive things
Which teased, which slipped, which then dissolved.
My folly cannot be absolved,
And I am but a puddle splashed
From a dense fool who soared and crashed.














Comments
I really like the allusion.
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