This still isn't what I wanted to write

[apiphile]

Like Father, Not Sun

In wild disarray I face the eternal fire,
Drenched in waxen sweat and love's bright tears,
And still the flickering flames cry, "Go higher."

Our situation once seemed deathly dire,
Trapped in pater-built prison for years,
But still the flickering flames cried, "Go higher."

And wings were fashioned without nail or wire,
By my self-same father, diverting fate's gears,
So in wild disarray I might face the eternal fire -

Though he bid me without cease, do not tire
Of telling me I should not rise: he spoke his fears,
And still the flickering flames cried, "Go higher."

It is parents' way to grip and grouse 'til they expire
That sons should be like their own yesteryears,
And not in wild disarray face the eternal fire.

Please, my sainted father, I say, bend your ears
Listen how the rising golden god sends his cheers
As in wild disarray I face the eternal fire
And still his flickering flames cry, "Icarus, go higher."