Icarus's blog: "Just South of Blue."

Sometimes I ask what I am.
Who I am.

The answer was never all that clear.
I'm afraid.

So I build great, towering walls of spikes and stones.
I thought when I learned my name
the one my father's mother gave me
things would be more clear.
Be more compact, concise.

Right.

That never was the case.
I'm just an unwanted son of an unwanted son.

That's what I am.
A stone bear surrounded by mirror-mazes
and crude, sharp spires blistering in the afternoon sun.

But what would I make of my life?
What would I answer, to who?

The mirrors all face outward.
So you'll see a not-unkind smile.
And sad, weary eyes, assuming the worst.
Never who. Never me.