Antithetical, Surreal

When it is quiet, and you are alone, Which does your mind prefer… to Search for “truths” that have been found? Or, to question… and to Find your own answers and truths? Do you build your labyrinth with the hope that maybe you’ll be lost, pleased to be the monster in the middle, a secret waiting to be slain. You cast away the thread, and disappear. Is exile simply where you wish to be found? I wander the halls of a maze within, Passing through each imagined room, my eyes and voice soften as, inward, I am drawn. Remember: I asked for this, the Unmasking. I beckoned for The antithetical, surreal… Now, be still, and cease your striving. Have you thought so long of disparities, that now you no longer see in kind? Have you fought so long, so fervently, that even your freedom is now a bind? I envy those who know their place; they find––or make––it where they are.