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The Labyrinth
November 9, 2023
My hair is done in black ribbon,
bare feet on cobblestone
floor is crisp, cold against my toes.
I wonder in a never-ending line,
turning and twisting with the corridors
of high walls. The atmosphere is purple.
I haven’t run into the beast yet,
but I see the mark of its bull horns
engraved as it drags its head against the walls.
Labyrinth of hopes and dreams,
plagued by the thought of a nightmare.
I’m the candle in its darkness,
wish in the flicker of heat.
I don’t think I want to find the end,
or even go back to the beginning.
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