The corn walls were high

but not as high as before;

still, I yearn to be taller

to glimpse the mural’s paths.

But I put my heels back down—

I’ve got a quest to conquer!

The copper face looks up from my palm,

so it is left I go.

May luck be on my side as I move

farther and farther forth.

I cut through the jigsaw, this maze is a breeze!

Oh, I recognize this high

of zeal fueling me through;

consecutive successes,

it’s all so easy. Lemon squeezy.

But that’s not how mazes work—

after all, you are doomed to lose your way.

My fortune drips to a halt,

beginner’s luck has its limit.

I meet wall after wall, after wall, after wall.

Retracing my path, collecting my thoughts, I’m still droughted of luck,

And helplessly parched for answers.

Daylight drains from the steep corn valleys,

Blanketing into a spanse of pitch blindness,

not one hint of direction… I’m utterly astray.

Desperate, I claw at the walls, but the corn husks scratch back.

The stripes on my skin feel hot and welt up.

Cluelessly, helplessly, I turn corners and curves.

Over labored breathing, I almost couldn’t hear

a crunch.

Old little bits of bread—

I’m not the first to tread this maze!