Puzzles...
They hamper me, as I walk, lingering, through this maze of mine. Shining Shrines of Silver, metaphors in anchors. They obstruct my resilience, shadows of reluctance.
They dim my light, so bright to begin with. They kindle my kindness in a gentleness, while they consume my rage. They are my griefs, they are my ghosts, they are hateful and fruitful and faithful. If I were to summon them in my dreams, they would already be there...
For I reckon that they seek and track my inmost fears and hopes. Delights and aches. Lost, am I? Yes. I believe so.
For I am in a room of puzzles once more.
Shall I follow the maze and remain, sore?
