The Indiana basketball team was eliminated today. It is a franchise that, for better or worse, that embodies the term “above average”. We quench their candle’s light with a poem.
To Dream of Icarus
To find a foe in failure is to never start anew
While always keeping comfort in the victories you view
To lean upon such broken legs as these which you were handed
While always dancing daftly ’round the means to find a muse
When yellow’d years have come and gone and done what you demanded
Will tempered tears of to-morrow have left you where you landed?
When the pains of being what you are bore new notches in your waist
Will what we’ve won and all that’s left be never still disbanded
To prosper is to plummet and then be grand again with grace
In all your vice and virtue rests a record wrought with waste
To dream of Icarus at best shows a fervent fear to lose
In sunrise soon to swallow up the permanence of pace