This lurching of the torchlight through
The shadows of the labyrinth
Reflects the frantic flickers of
My hope to glimpse the terebinth
That grows outside the entrance of
This maze where death has taken you.

This maze where death has taken you
Has conquered many souls before
This day did break with skies of blood
Now here I am ‘midst growls and gore.
I mask my smell with coat of mud.
I search for you now lost from view.

I search for you now lost from view –
Love stolen by a heartless beast –
In hope that he has not been quick
In making you his morning feast.
Such thoughts do make me deathly sick;
I pray an alternate is true.

I pray an alternate is true,
That you might have escaped the myth
And have been since in search of me.
Survival, then, the point, the pith!
If you yet live then I must see
This lurching of the torchlight through.