“Are you awake?”

But no sound did he make.

Not a blink in his unseeing gaze.

So I cut off his head,

Gathered the thread,

And I made my way out of the Maze.

“Are you awake?

Did your heart almost break

Through the night as you waited for me?

O, my Lady,” I said,

“I return with the head of the Beast.

O my Lady,” I said,

“I return with the head of the Beast.”

With the morning sun ascending,

I found the thread’s frayed ending.

Not clutched in my Lady’s hand,

But caught upon an olive branch.

And in the breeze, how it swayed.

In the breeze, how it swayed.

I circled round the clearing

With still no sign appearing.

And while the blood inside me burned,

I silently returned.

To the Maze.