My head is a labyrinth,
I'm often lost within it
Pacing about
Pondering
Making sense of the walls:
Hedges of vibernum and lilac
Concealed by overgrown vines
Thorns sticking out

Sometimes, the sun gleams
Feeding life into the limbic structure
And blooming flowers in the light.
Though, as it happens, the sun
Must drown and descend
Upon the skyline
And the blossoms must wither
With the night

I wander in circles with myself
Voice echoing in corners
Where only I can hear
And I shed my tears
Pricking nerves on sharp curbs
Inching closer
Closer to egressing
But walking the polar direction

Unceasingly reaching dead ends
In crevices of the gray matter
I lay, curled like a child
Resting,
Yet restless
And investing the remainder of my will
Into waking another day
In the inescapable maze that is my mind