Upon meeting her in fields of foxglove,

Labyrinth composed of feelings was granted.

The entrance lured me, promising warm love,

Which I stepped into like I was enchanted.

Filled with sunlight, honey bees, grass, flowers,

The place demanded happiness with no storm.

But going deeper in search of happy hours,

The lot in the maze began to transform.

Flowers turned into small groups of weevils

Grass into needle, bee to killer bee,

Warm sunlight turned to a face of evils,

Everything shifted and seeked to strain me. 

Too far I went into the maze to pause,

Too late it was to turn for better cause.