Content warning: mentions of suicide.
The sunrise laughter, he was—
His array of morning-bird chirping humor,
A tear-turned-smile: Houdini’s final quest.
Standing, a million o’stars glistening in
His pupils, a sun-bright mind alike,
As his light-hearted feet solved every
The flight-turbulent wrist, he was—
His flaming ambitions meet sobering
Light. Reality, the paralyzed soul: a crying
For his emerald child, he was—
Caring for the tumultuous stone,
As his weeping heart saw light.
As the loveless widow steals dawn,
As his hope whimpers a subtle
His gut-wrenched smile, he was—
His raisin eyes, lately glimmered,
For his frail brain, his begging eyes,
His flaccid, dangling throat meets
For his staccato past, we cherish in blue,
His miraged future, a devil’s regret,
As he sings in silence, we mustn’t forget
That Icarus, like him, once flew.