The Hunt

A hunger of knowing is possessing me, And a shadow in a maze is leading me, To a fading face I almost forgot, While leaving the mirrors broken on the way. I am hunting a soul of a child. And along the run the child is not saying, While the mirrors are broking on the way. I could have shouted or cried, But I do not know the name of the young. So I stop in an unknown road at the maze, And speak to the me that hunt: “What do you hunt? And why do you do so?” While the mirrors at both sides are broking. A moment of silence conquers the corner, And the me is not able to give the respond. But a voice answers in urgency: “ To the me you’re searching” The child then turns, and what do I see is a vision of me on the broken mirrors. I am hunting my innocence in the maze of my adulthood.