The endless labyrinth dwelled in a forest, deep and twisted tight,
A maze lay hidden from the light.
Its paths wound through eternal night,
Where echoes whispered of lost fright.
Each turn and corner led to despair,
A maze of terror with no hope of repair.
The trees grew closer, their branches gnawed,
As shadows swirled around the clawing darkness.
Lost dreamers wandered within its grip,
Guided by whispers that would never slip.
Their pleas for help were swallowed whole,
By the labyrinth’s heart, where darkness took its toll.
The walls, adorned with names of the lost,
Bore witness to a chilling cost.
Those who ventured, drawn by fate,
Found their lives sealed by the maze’s gate.
The endless labyrinth would claim its prize,
Feeding on the terror in their eyes.
And those who entered, never to leave,
Were trapped forever in the dark reprieve.
No light could pierce the dense and thick fog,
No sign of longing in this sinister alcove.
The air grew heavy and full of dread,
As the dreams entered, their hopes were long dead.
The labyrinth, a creature of ancient woe,
Devoured the light, the flames, the glow.
Its paths were twisted, wicked and cold,
A monument to fierce nightmares.
Fragments of life, faint and lost,
Went astray through the maze’s frost.
Each cry for help, each mournful plea,
Merged with the maze’s eternal spree.
The gardens beyond became a distant dream,
As the labyrinth swallowed, all that gleamed.
No exit was found, and no path was clear,
Just the dark embrace of endless fear.
In the heart of the maze, time ceased to exist,
An eternal torment shrouded in mist.
Endless paths led nowhere near,
Trapped in a void of despair and fear.
The endless labyrinth claims its own,
And leaves the lost to wander alone.
No escape, no final breath,
Only the whisper of approaching death.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
