Best Poems Written by Ezra French

Icarus

I often pause to question the tale: 
What if his ambition was to fail? 
I have wondered how the story turns, 
And what the modern world from Icarus learns. 

If Icarus had flown too low, 
To drown beneath the undertow;
We wouldn't call him Dreamer, bright and bold, 
Just a pathetic failure, sharp and cold. 
He'd be the villain of a reckless flight, 
A fool who chose the endless night.

I know this judgment, and now I agree,
Because that alternative Icarus is me. 
I chose the ocean's massive size, 
And due to this, I drowned in lies.

I flew too close, too lost in commotion, 
Drowning in the sheer, wrong misery of the ocean. 
Not living myself, not truly free,
I let the water overpower me.

I sank. Not in a blaze, but in a shameful quiet, 
The wings, someone else's, had started to riot. 
They dissolved like mist, the frame was failing, 
Feathers around me, darkness prevailing.

I hit the floor. I knew my end. 
But broken things can always mend. 
One day I am gonna grow wings. 
And forget the pain that sorrow brings.

Wings of my own forging, made from the core, 
I will leave this cold, dark ocean floor. 
I will choose the fire, though it brings the end, 
For the sun's high grace, I will gladly contend.

I will burn just to show I can.
To finally test my new wingspan.
I trade the coldness of the crushing depth, 
For the last, bright gasp of my burning breath.

Copyright © Ezra French | Year Posted 2026