• I am running,
    Blindly through weathered walls;
    The labyrinth of my mind.
    Until a flicker of light,
    Held by my own hands.

    I stumble into my own arms,
    Held by this stranger whom I have searched for
    All my life.

    I lead myself to a door
    Through which I step,
    Bathed in a pool of gold.

    I am but an illusion,
    A shadow of the truth.
    Let me rest now,
    for the other to take over.