All the Bethlehems in the world

couldn't grant you that re-birth,

the one you crave and need

to defeat the grinning labyrinth. 

 

The corridors are contaminated

with seedlings of doubt, 

inklings of dread, yet

you still unspool the thread

Ariadne gave you, and

pray it's no jest. 

 

After all, what's a maze for,

without its roaming Minotaur?