Searching blind, hand running along the side
of the cold, wet moss-covered wall that bent and twisted
Overhead only darkness, dripping drops of tar.
Every turn, a new obstacle, a boulder, a fire
licking across the path. Frightened, swerving
from side to side, heart beat rising.
Only dark as the maze grew on.
Slowly, a glimmer. Maybe a light?
But alas, it is not. It is only a tiny orb
of hope that drifts away as quickly as it came.
Terror builds in every vein of blood surging
through skin and cells. But what is that?
The maze opens as the darkness begins to clear,
is this the end of me? Am I dead? But no, a friendly light,
the ray of sense that I needed, my way out.
And there you stood, the sun beaming out from your pockets,
a gentle breeze drifting your hair into your eyes,
a hand reached out to take my own that has been blood torn
and pricked by the thorns of the walls of the maze,
as we step into safety.
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