Icarus - By: Roan De Ryker

I would rather be Icarus,

wings stitched of stubborn dreams,

vaulting skyward through the hush

of sun-drawn, searing beams,

than stay below with tethered soul

and net cast out to fate,

content to drift where currents roll

and call ambition weight.

Let wax run hot and feathers fall,

let daylight burn me blind,

I’d trade the safety of the small

for one bold flight unlined.

The sea may take me in the end,

but oh, the view I’ll know,

not from the boat, a watchful friend,

but from the blaze, aglow.

The fisherman may count the days,

his catch, his meals, his coin,

but I will blaze a thousand ways

where myths and stars rejoin.

For what is fall, if first you fly?

To soar, to burn, to never die,

to touch the edge where angels lie,

and leave behind the safe, the shy.

So mark me burned, but mark me bright,

a name the sun might know.

I would rather be Icarus

than watch him rise from below.

Please give a detailed explanation about the meaning and main idea of this poem.

The poem Icarus is a powerful reflection on the choice between living boldly and staying safely grounded. Drawing on the myth of Icarus, who flew too close to the sun and fell to his death, it celebrates the thrill of reaching for something greater—even when it means risking everything. The narrator rejects the comfort of a life that stays in the safe, predictable zone, preferring the intensity of pursuing dreams, no matter the cost.

While the dangers of ambition are acknowledged—represented by Icarus’s fall—the poem doesn’t shy away from the idea that failure is a small price to pay for the rush of aiming high. The fall of Icarus isn’t a tragic end but part of the bold journey. In stark contrast, the fisherman, inspired by Rubens’ painting, symbolizes the life of those who avoid risk, content with the monotony of daily survival. His world is one of routine and predictability, never looking beyond what’s in front of him.

The fisherman’s life is safe, but it's small and limited. The poem makes it clear that a life of passivity and routine lacks the vision and adventure of the Icarus flight. Even in failure, the Icarus path offers immense value—a chance to be part of something bigger, to leave a legacy, and to experience life fully. The fall isn’t something to fear; it’s part of the risk that makes the flight worth it.

Ultimately, the poem is a celebration of boldness—the kind that chases dreams and embraces the unknown. It dares to ask: isn’t it better to burn brightly, even if briefly, than to live in the shadows of comfort and safety, never attempting anything extraordinary? Soar high, even if it means falling, because that is the way to truly live.

Please explain your writing and thought process regarding this poem.

In this poem, my goal was to explore the tension between living a bold, ambitious life and settling for a safe, predictable existence. I used the myth of Icarus as a powerful metaphor for embracing risks, especially when pursuing one's dreams or higher aspirations. The story of Icarus, who flew too close to the sun and ultimately fell, serves as a vivid symbol for the dangers of ambition—but also for the immense freedom and thrill that come with it.

I wanted to challenge the idea that safety is the ultimate goal. To me, the fall of Icarus isn’t just a tragic end; it’s an inevitable consequence of striving for something greater. In writing the poem, I aimed to show that the fall isn’t a failure, but part of the journey of pushing boundaries. It’s more worthwhile to aim high and experience the excitement of trying, even at the cost of falling, than to live a life defined by caution and comfort.

In the end, I wanted to convey a message about the value of ambition. I believe that life is about more than just surviving—it's about making bold choices and embracing uncertainty. The poem encourages the reader to choose the Icarus path, to soar toward greatness, even if it comes with the risk of falling, because that’s where the truest sense of life and meaning is found.

Why did you choose to write this poem?

I believe it's far better to try and fail than not try at all. Even in failure, there's growth, learning, and a deeper understanding of yourself. Not trying leaves you with regret and the haunting question of "what if?" To me, it’s better to take the risk, experience the journey, and know you gave it everything, even if it doesn’t work out. I also found it incredibly interesting to reverse this myth of hubris and hail Icarus as a hero, celebrating his boldness and ambition rather than condemning him for his fall.

Do you have any tips or anything to share with the youth writers who may be reading this?

For a long time, I sought to match the literary prowess of the great poets—Dante, Shakespeare, Milton, Virgil, Ovid—constantly comparing my work to theirs and striving for a similar level of excellence. I believed that to be a great writer, I had to measure up to the standards they set. However, over time, I came to an important realization: I shouldn’t strive to be “as good” as they were. The truth is, their works reflect the unique circumstances, cultures, and experiences of their time, and what I create cannot, and should not, replicate theirs.

What I write today is something that could never have been written by them, and vice versa. This is where the beauty of art lies: in its ability to be wholly original. Every writer brings a perspective that is shaped by their individual experiences, voice, and worldview—elements that are uniquely theirs. No matter how much one strives for technical perfection, the value of creativity lies in its inherent originality. What makes your work significant is not just the quality, but the personal mark you leave on it, something that no other writer in history, past or future, could replicate. Embrace that individuality—it’s what makes your writing both distinct and important.