Maze Race

Old walls, and tapestries
Cobwebs on the frames
Of the paintings
And dust on my name
On my eyes

I'm blinded
I stagger down the hall
Letting my fingers run
Slowly, over the wall
I can hear you
In the distance

I'm always here,
Pacing your maze
Reach out for me
And touch my face
So I can find you
I can find your trace

Cold, dead winter roads
Blackened branches
Grasping me
I'm chanceless
For the ice

I shiver
I stumble on
Too weak to break out
Into a run
I can feel you
In the distance

I'm always here,
Pacing your maze
Reach out for me
And touch my face
So I can find you
I can find your trace

And end my slowly dying race