Life of the Minotaur

How miserable must it be

to live the life of the Minotaur.

The walls cave in on you

Phantom feelings of touch

Grace your skin as fleeting memories.

The sun beats down on you

Your skin turning to blisters,

Breath leaving with a metallic taste.

Scared to speak, to move

Fearing you’ll hear

the breaking of bones again.

Their faces have long left you

New ones leaving soon,

Yours the last they'll see.

The moon’s beam is your only light

Reflecting off the sheen of the stone

Burnt sand seldom cooling in temperature.

You refuse to close your eyes

The face of your brother all you see

The voice of Hades all you hear.

You wished this wasn’t how it was supposed to be,

Your blood staining his clothes,

A body lays limp in the center.

How miserable must it be

To live the life of the Minotaur.