If there was a time
these walls could guide me,
there was also a time I
could choose to tear them down.

They are as fragile
as they’ve ever been,
but my compass is berserk;
not sure what to keep in.

It’s shaped like a home,
four walls and a roof,
but its the most complicated maze
I’ve ever gone through.

And I’m still not sure
if I’ve made it out,
because if I have, I
must have left something inside.

Though it’s an achievement,
I was never promised shit.
I feel like it’s not over,
it’s gotta be a trick.

Ever since I left,
I have walked in the same direction.
The steady pace of north-west steps
has been a permeable selection.

I guess it is my ivory cell
that knows where to go.
All I can show in show and tell
are echos of din in this grotto.


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