Just conquer your fear and confront the Minotaur, child!
You see; I'm not supposed to tell you this,
As secrecy is part of the rites,
But man is but a beast!
And that beast in there with you is no bull,
Just a person!

Talk to them! Outwit them! Fight them!

Listen, it's an island - but it's large seas.
Listen, it's an ocean - but it's on a gigantic boulder.

We're just trying to raise you up from childhood into adolescence.
The disorientation or anxiety you may suffer
Is only temporary,
And the environment around you is safe.
We're a small community,
This has been a pretty solid rite of passage.
All agree, we emerge more resilient.
We emerge more confident.
Such states of ignorance & fear
Truly forces one to assess
Their best courses of action.
Your choices within
Help you better understand yourself
And, therefore, us as well.
Such things give you a better idea
Of what you might like
To do with your life
And what position or role
You would best be suited for.

Do you feel lost? Ask for directions!
Use the dark! Knick the map off them!
Get the jump! Hide around a corner & ambush them!

It's just a maze! Not a prison.

I swore I meant to get baptized
you ended up with my head under water,
just alittle too long that time
and it should be cold instead of hotter.
I fight against the rough waves
my arms reach out for you instead of splashing.
I prefer that method where I’m being saved
instead of receiving a verbal thrashing.

Rooted in ground, meant to settle down,
hiding under the rubble,
you’re not Sonic in the bubble.
While I’m bound to always maybe poke around
believe me I don’t want to cause trouble.
I’m not Sonic in the bubble.

I’ve always wanted a bigger bath tub
she craves to have a yard once more.
Everyday I trade both for a back rub
you ask “is your body even sore?”
I tell her who doesn’t feel some strain
and that her hands have always felt healing,
infact they cure almost every single pain
that I’ve had the misfortune of feeling

Hearing no sound, except the counting down
too far and deep in a puddle
you’re not Sonic in the bubble.
A trick I found is to always use a spin pound
straight from the knuckle,
I’m not Sonic in the bubble.

I only want the best chocolate
but I won’t pay for it out of pocket,
I expect a free taste to know if it’s worth my time.
Like picking doors and lockets
and sticking your fingers into sockets
it’s the type of thrill you don’t want to define.

Who am I if I stop running?
In this endless race,
Endless twists and turns,
This labyrinth with no clear escape.

They say the cheese waits for the clever,
for the fast, obedient, and blind.
But every trail,
There's nothing to find.

Ever so often,
The walls of the labyrinth close in.
Soft enough to muffle my screams,
Hard enough to bruise the parts of me,
That still have belief.

They mark my stumbles,
Analyze my pace,
Their eyes flicker, cold.
Hands leaving nothing but a trace.

Each maze-turn reeks of someone else's fear.
As if their ghost still lingers here.
Haunting.
The ground remembers each fall,
Each and every slammed-into wall.

We were promised purpose.
It was framed as choice.
But not once did I hear my voice.
Only the loud ringing of bells, bright lights,
Rewards, and shame.
Yet I still carry all the blame.

But something stirs beneath the ache.
A whisper no test can replicate.
What if i pause, mid-turn, mid-race?
And let stillness flood this frantic place?

With a compass of sheer curiosity, I roam,  
An oxymoron guiding me to unknown realms,  
Chasing the edge of a world that’s never shown,  
Looking for paradise at every place,
Only to find in the void, a blank space.

Each question a spark, a thread to unwind,  
But this thread, it tangles, no answers to find,  
In the labyrinth of thought, I'm lost, confined,  
Curiosity's compass, leading a confused mind.

In the edge of a cliff, I stand up straight.
I see a mirror, staring back at me is my own fate.
Reflecting not my face, but just my shadow,  
The more I chase the light, the more I grow hollow.

In a labyrinth of thoughts, where every twist and bend,  
Feels both familiar and foreign, a journey with no end.
In the tangled vines of confusion, making things worse,
Engulfed in this darkness, being one with the curse.

They see me as mysterious, a figure shrouded in mist,  
But I wander the same paths, where exits don’t exist.  
Chasing a ghost, an echo of who I thought I'd be,  
Yet finding only illusions, hopes that deceive me.

I search for something lost, that perhaps was never there,  
A fleeting dream, a whisper, dissolving in the air.  
Endlessly I walk, seeking what I cannot see,  
A labyrinth of my making, where I’m never found to be.

No rhyme, no beat
Just a cloud of disarray
I lay here in defeat,
deaf to all things each mouth says

High, low pitches;
melted into one single tune
The muscles prone to fickle flinches
waiting for the watchman’s beat by noon

Stuck all in its monotony
it’s chamber loop, its labyrinth
I cry at all things dead possibility
hoping for release as dead ends tear all I believe in

From heaven and hell
or simply I could tell
a labyrinth where I fell
and begged in a
cathedral that I've built
to woe my insurmountable grief
to forfend my undying love. and thus, my love grew as my abyss.

A Labyrinth is enjoyable when you know there is a way out
Its colours are enticing when you know they will fade out
The glamour might intoxicate
The novelty might instigate
But as time passes
The colours, the glamour, the novelty of it starts to suffocate

Embalmed skin -
seemingly made anew,
yet pocked with sores…
from a life past.

The then waylaid heart
needed only whisper…

And long was the walk
through the cursed labyrinth
of sharp worldly things.