The Frequency of Frustration

Trapped in time an endless maze,
Of spirals underground,
Doors all leading nowhere,
And no breath of life is found,

For fractal is the endless gaze,
An infinite repose,
The seer’s sense is heightened,
Yet the timeline grows and grows,

Not one key unlocks the door,
And not one clue is placed,
Despite relentless looking,
And all darkened shadow faced,

The golden ticket is retained,
The narrow halls go through,
Yet at the end there’s nothing,
But the mirror facing you,

And as I stand in front of me,
I look at loving eyes,
I see what I have feared the most,
And watch the phoenix rise,

Through ashes have I risen still,
Through darkness and despair,
And as the past went missing,
There is love eternal there.

No more shall sirens ring at night,
For sovereign do I stand,
I look straight in the mirror,
And I take the mirror’s hand.

-Pamela Storch