The Parable of Icarus

a man drove his heart straight at the sun,
hoping for a burning sensation
just below the lungs.
but somewhere in his dreadful occupation
a change occurred:
force turned to lightning, then pith, then nothing.
he fell like a shot bird
and began to curse his own awful living.
the sun stayed sullen and silent.
the man asked it why he was lonely,
why he could never find content:
the sun stayed an unspeaking titanity,
but quiet, as if thinking,
and asked of him the same thing.