The Labyrinth

How could we feel so alone in a room, in a building, in world full of people who are just like us, who are so different from us?

And why is it that we don’t let people in? What fear is it that causes us to live behind steel walls?

I don’t understand it. 

I feel trapped. Trapped in the labyrinth, unable to find the beginning or the end; it is constantly changing, but I am constantly ending up back where I had just been. 

I am trapped in the labyrinth. For I can find the perfect path, the perfect place of serenity, but it is eternally temporary.

I am trapped in the labyrinth, for it seems that the walls are ever-changing, only creating new puzzles that lead me to return to dead-ends. 

Perhaps I am stuck in the self-destructive eye, surrounded by walls of unascertained futures. But at least I have made it to the middle. 

Will I choose the right path–the path that leads me out? Or by cruel misfortune, will I choose the path which leads back to my dismal beginning?

Perhaps there is no right or wrong passage. Perhaps I am simply stuck. 

I am trapped in the labyrinth. I am trapped and I cannot abscond the walls that entrance me. 

Yet, it is nearly peaceful here, peaceful and sound. 

I cannot get out, but,

I cannot be found