He flew from hell, the hell which he had ascended into and then descended into. He flew from the beast consuming him both inside and outside. The darkness and confusion were a chaos, a chaos which had resulted in the birth of the world, and the same chaos that would cause its death. He had become death, and at the same time, he had become life.
He endeavored to fly close to the sun, but flew too close. As a result he endeavored to fly close to the waves, but flew too close. He had violated the instructions that would save his life, and the wax binding his wings fell apart, and he descended into death.
He endeavored to come close to the truth, but came too close. As a result, he endeavored to distance himself from the truth, but went too far. He had violated the instructions of the world, and the wax binding his sanity fell apart, and he descended into death.
Neither did he go to heaven, nor did he go to hell. He was the equilibrium holding the two apart. He sentence was to both reward and punish for curiosity, for the very thing that brought him to his lowest level but brought him to his highest level.
He was at the heart of matter, the heart of the universe. Pale brown walls guided him forward like a pumping blood vessel to perform his duty. In front of him lay light, order, civilization. Behind him lay darkness, chaos, confusion. The back portion of his body was enveloped in darkness as his body took on the shape of a grotesque ram with hideous and distorted limbs. The front portion of his body was enveloped in light, and soared like a bold eagle as he lifted his head high and proudly spread the very wings that had brought him down.
He was proud and distraught, daring and withdrawn. Yet what would that matter, for he was but a reaper, both punishing and rewarding for his sin.