The White Maze

All I see is whiteness.
Peace in empty space.
All I know is nothing
in every frosty place.

The coldness here is freshness,
the loss of hopes and dreams.
The whiteness blinds me, glowing seas.
A scene of possibility.

The maze was built by me alone.
It had no heart,
just many starts called home.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.