Icarian Destinations

Why do we do it?
Why do we type?
Why do you read?
Is it to fulfill some unmet need?

Are we that egotistical?
Is our thirst for acceptance so vast as to propagate this mess?
Is it inversely proportional to our unparalleled shallowness?
Could we possibly be that self-absorbed?

So what's it gonna be?
Is this some sick cry for help or something of worth?
I'd be amiss if I didn't admit to the lift
I get from seeing a # by the word comment

That's not all though, I'm glad to say
There's an undercurrent to these texts regardless of their literary worth
They're a testament of the newest kind to examine the Way
To spelunk the cavernous Creator...repelling by creativity

Or to ride wings of silver with feathers of gold to Icarian destinations
Where very few mortals have been
Where angels tread only with great trepidation
To pierce the zenith...entering the Triarchy's den

To what heights or depths might we reach?
We may never know,
but save for this, I know for certain
We'll only arrive there, if by our words we go