From the Sun to the Sea (Pt.3)

By some kind of luck, or fate maybe, We still lived on, yet at a fee. Away in a tower we were locked, Our access to the world, our whole life was blocked. Irony has a strange way of showing it's shine, Being trapped in a labyrinth of your own design. But Daedalus was an inventor, and would not bow his knee, To destiny's tendrils, so he gave his plea. Two sets of wings, with leather bones and paper feathers, A way of escape from life's cruel tethers. With beeswax as glue and a delicate balance, A mixture of father's love, plus the furniture and valance.