On The Wings of Icarus

Thou who art creator of the legends,
Thou who art footprint of the ancestors,
Thou who art Judge of Justice
Hear the gnashing of the toddler.
Motherland filled with honey, Turns
Murder land filled with trials.
Home filled with jingles, Turns
Home like desert.
Even desert has a breathing space.

Mother: "Why art thou call me?"
Toddler: "Mother, your treasures and
                  virtues are sinking",
                "No fisherman to fish them out,
                  even if there is, no hook, line
                 and sinker",
                "Canaan turns to Sodom with an
                  accomplice Gomorrah",
                 "The ocean is too vast, no
                   swimmer to take the challenge"
                 "But are the gods to be blamed"
Mother: "who is to be blamed, if not
                 Icarus?"
Toddler: "who is Icarus?"
Mother: " Thou who giveth eyes to see,
                  knows Icarus, thou who mold the
                   wings of wax is watching".
                   "Virtues, why art thou flying
                 ON THE WINGS OF ICARUS".