The Maze With In A Head
In silence, the mind becomes a maze,
Spirals of thought, endless pathways to trace.
A figure stands still, at the head heart,
Seeking escape, yet unsure where to start.
Shadows linger where answers evade,
Walls of confusion, both sharp and well-made.
Every turn whispers secrets untold,
The stories of burdens, the years growing cold.
The eyes are closed, the journey runs deep,
In the corridors of dreams, awake or asleep.
The maze isn’t broken, nor meant to confine,
It’s the map of a head space, that seeks to align.
So wander the pathways, embrace what you find,
The puzzles within are the truths of the mind.
when the maze leads you to peace for evermore
You’ll see what it means to be at the mind core
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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By S. A. Crawford3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
How prophetic in a way and a mind is a terrible thing to waste.
A poignant exploration of the mind's labyrinth. Beautifully introspective.