It's like a maze made for a rat,
all twisted and confusing as that,
All the walls close in
and all the e n d s lead back to where you begin.
Nothing you can do will r e t r a c e
and send you back to your hap-happy place.
The stairs lead p
and all the ramps slide d
as if gravity is selective and has a mind of its
A lucid peace swells in your breast
and the darkness isn't so haunting in your tightened chest.
The confusion is even greater than the fear and
doesn't matter as you finally stand.
The walls stopped closinginlike the mist in a graveyard.
However, Grave Danger is on his way in all his glorious regard.
The Good Lady Light calls your brain,
hoping to reanimate you again.
She cures your ailment,
puts you back on track from your derailment,
and blesses you with sight.
But when you open your eyes, you see circles of white,
and they're from his camera capriciously flashing,
and all you're seeing is harshly clashing,
and briefly the fear s t o p s your ba-bump ba-bump heart
and he pulls you d
n by the arm
and jerks you around
until your mind looses track of
s t o p s.