18 April 2017

From shadows short and fleeing quickly, do we fly

leaving doorways tall and arching, restive, sly

We slink away down cold and clammy corridors, at length

(though as with Mirrors every hallway seems the same) the Fool

seeks change and new beginnings, 

unfound we blame ourselves and in uncertainty our fate;

Ad Infinitum in our horror we exclaim, "Woe, the walls are closing in"...