The Maze

We walk through this labyrinth called life,
This glad-sad many-mirrored maze,
Past its reflections
Of the thousand faces of reality we strife,
Upon the ever changing images
Of ourselves and our world we gaze.

Kaleidoscopic visions of our own diversity we see,
Some mirrors show us what we really are,
Others project us as we want to be,
To reconcile the two along the way,
And find our own true self,
Discover purpose, meaning in this mortal clay,
Is our fated ever present task,
As long as life's brief candle
Does the darkness stay.

The tragedy of men lies in the fact,
That after trial and error we do wisdom gain,
And our own true nature well understand,
Knowledge what this sweet bitter life
Is all about obtain,
That then the journey
Through the maze is at an end,
All our perfections in a grave contained.
The purpose of this irony
Only immortal gods can comprehend.

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz