Little House

I see the world through foggy panes of glass

A surreal scene playing out before me
Is it real? My mind standing still at an impasse
I wish it could be, but still I will want free

A deep set pressure, crushing me

Short ceiling and no room for air
A cluttered cacophony, shattered mess
No doors, two windows, I sit, stare

The house rumbling, once again

A flash of moving light
Still just meaningless, life’s great drain
Mind confined, without might

The thought is gone

A room, maybe less tight
Curtains are tightly drawn
Ready for the night

Subversive, I stand in my house

Against the light where I have spent my life
No tolerance for the confines, I have been held with shackles and chains
I fight against the window’s light, a patient in my own asylum

I crawl through the crevices, over the dust and forgotten memories
Crack and passages that riddle my house I do not know it well
Unfamiliar, the many paths or routes
I summon a will, courage swells

In the back of my mind there lies a maze, many paths unwalked, uncharted, unknown
A cold constricting puzzle in which you may delve too deep, the vastness of the sea floor
It can hold you there, or set you free?
Nevertheless I must find me

The truth is what it hides against its turns

The truth is not happy, but it is your own
The truth is free in the dark no task for a fool
The truth is unexpected, and liberating, it speaks to you

Carefull, steps as I walk the paths timidly

Hands shaking, eyes darting shadows to shadow
I run my hands across the earthen and stone walls
A strange curiosity drives me

I run trying to outpace the darkness

Further, forward, faster to the center of this test
Fear gone, adrenaline driven, sprinting now, all care thrown aside
Something new, and free

I roam throughout, exploring, discovering,

It could have been hours days, it does not matter
This feels real
A cool wind pushing at my back, I travel further on

Like a prisoner finally escaped, jailbreak

Through the many turns on the run
So fast, losing traction on the paths untrod
Feel I’m close freedom in my own hands

The time is now at last, the center of this labyrinth

Entrance a gnarled grove trees, dim light against its many folds
Heart of the meaning, it put a hook through my soul, reeled me in
But, all there is is a vacant room, dead and devoid

I take a step in, the floor loose and warm as sand

A empty space in which thoughts to be filled

As wind blows across, erasing my steps

It breathes in the present, shapeable as clay

It is an enigma of sorts
One not meant to be solved
It stays here in my maze
Puzzle finished, no resolve