Impatiently wandering the last struggles of this maze
Traveller threatened by the imposing pressures of doom
Losing control … struggling to harness the building light
Shades of darkness distract the glory
Until the final threshold, he doubts his escape
Trapped beneath the high walls of regret
Fearing the grassy plateau is really quicksand
Some enchantment fooling his awareness
Accepting the fibres of hope
Which could really be further despair
Gripping the rope with all his attention
Keeping it in sight ….
Because that is the direction out of the labyrinth
Seeing corridors … ignoring those raptures
But doubting … the rope could be another distraction
The weight of the universe presses down on his mind
He struggles to remain sane
Madness twists the blade
On the tightrope he is the dancer slipping and sliding
Losing balance in the dead lights of the unrelenting storm
The eagle buffeted in the constant cold north wind
Driving snow willing him to lose his grip
And slide down the crevices which lie beside his feet
The urge for rage … for violence is a constant threat
Some enchantment urges him to drop that rope
And permit madness to be complete …
But his light drives him onwards
He has sight of the new lands …
The new life promised by the building force
The alignment of the planets the power he requires
To break the binding of the gaoler
To escape this maze
And escape again this blasted land
But this time not to return
This time to forge the pathway to the heavens
That which his soul knows lies ahead ………
