The Heart’s Beacon
In the twisting dark where shadows plot and creep
A heart serves as an unblinking beacon
A pulse that guides through winding corridors, stone and echo deep
Darkness bends and presses, plotting in every twist and turn
Yet the heart’s radiance blazes on, its course unbroken, never cheap
Corridors stretch, blind and unending, traps and riddles by design
But the flame within carves a passage, making terror’s gloom benign
Phantoms lean from the corners, their cold gazes sharp as knives
Yet the heart’s unwavering fire forces them to scatter and flee
A constant rebellion against despair’s grip, where nothing dead survives
Illuminating paths the frightened eyes refuse to see
Even as the maze narrows, each wall closing like a fist
The beacon grows bolder, brightening every shadowed twist
Among the sighs of those who failed, in haunted air thick with loss
This heart’s glow endures, defiant when every other light has crossed
It refuses the silence of defeat, the sweet surrender to despair
Igniting each step with longing, making even the coldest stone aware
Here in the snarl of the maze, where most would beg to turn and run
The beacon forges onward, golden as a rising sun
It is not the absence of fear that makes this journey complete
But the refusal to let fear dictate when and how you retreat
The pulse of hope is stitched through with defiance and will
A war drum in the ribs, a stubborn refusal to keep still
So long as the heart burns, so long as it spits in the face of the night
No darkness can claim you; the maze surrenders to the light
The maze never ends, its shadows ever reforming
But the heart’s beacon keeps burning, a warning and a promise
That in every twisting path, every hour of mourning
There is a light inside the chest that will not break or miss
For every shadow spun, for every hope denied or beaten
The heart becomes the legend, the path, and the beacon