Zemira

Thus blows a wind,

Sharp as sand,

Cold as ice,

Hard as stone.

Thus blows a wind,

Softer than sheep,

Warm as the sun,

Smooth as slate.

“As you approach the cart, you hear a faint sound of shuffling in one of the crates, as if-“

“I smash it with my mace!!”

“RUE!!”

I hate that 
Icarus gets all the ink. 
His hubris penned down for eternity while 
His scorched flesh watched on. 

But never is it Daedalus. 
Daedalus, who waits. 
The waiting Daedalus. 

     There is something about her, thought the universe as it sat perched upon the cliff of infinity.