In the labyrinth of doubt and fear,
Where shadows lurk and whispers sneer,
A weary soul wanders, lost and drear,
In search of a path, but none appear.
Through twisted corridors of endless night,
Where echoes of sorrow linger and bite,
The journey seems an endless fight,
Against the darkness, swallowing light.
It’s hard to find a way, they say,
When all roads lead to the same dismay,
And hope feels like a distant ray,
Lost amidst the disarray.
But in the depths of despair’s embrace,
A glimmer of light, a flicker of grace,
A guiding hand, a gentle trace,
Leading the lost to a sacred place.
For even in the darkest night,
There lies a spark, a guiding light,
A beacon of hope, burning bright,
To lead the lost back into sight.
So fear not the maze, oh weary soul,
For even in the darkest night,
There lies a path, a sacred goal,
To lead you back into the light.
