The Retelling of the Myth of the Legend of the Mythical Icaphus

"MY ARMS ARE SORE!" *silence* "HEY!! DO YOU HAVE ANY OTHER ROCKS?!?!" *silence* "FINALLY. I DID IT! *HEAVES* " "CA-CAAW!" "No. You have to be kidding me. This absolutely sucks." Legendary Icaphus then forged a knife from a broken bone, And legendary Icaphus slayed the bloodthirsty raven! The wings of the bird still intact, she sewed them into her spine and she ascended - the boulder became a pebble. Through the clouds she rose, around cascades of lighting, barrages of ice, Massive black storm fronts became little grey plumes. The sun, though, grew more and more. The winds grew thin and cold and her ravenous wings began to shudder, The sun's glowing heat simply too marvelous. The gasping sun pulled poor Icaphus into a brilliant oblivion. Her soul was not effaced, but released from her gaseous corpse, And it grew and it still grows infinitely larger, Touching every star and all the planets and their moons. The twinkling night - this is where it gets its light.