Lost again down those empty hallways,
music in my head and your heart in my mouth,
footfalls echoing from the otherwise silent walls.

To turn about, grasping at shadows just out of reach
knowing that they have something yet to teach,
but of what and for whom they will not speak.

Brought down by hands and hearts and eyes,
hands to break, hearts to bind, and eyes to lie.

In what language do you want me to say it?
Or would hating you be more appropriate,
more in line with your appetite?

And who is that over there,
just beyond your shoulder half shown,
bearing a cowl and a mirror?

We cannot go back and we cannot get out
and who is it that shall carry whom
through the horrors of this night?

I will stay here with you though
and carry the lamp forward
as you try and ****** your own minotaur.