f15 LIT1 Judy Three Word Prompt: Maze, Furious, Hermit

In furious glee, the madman bursts into the room

His beard is dripping ice; his breaths form tiny clouds

His staring eyes dart round the room and soon he'll see

My huddled form, my empty hands; he'll hear the sounds

Of moaning dread that steal from my cold shudd'ring lips

It's only folly, madness, to pretend he won't

Discover me; the hermit's senses are acute

As needles that he uses to sew his lips shut

And so he lets his ears lead him along the tiles

And listens to the echoes that his shears emit

I'm fastened to my spot, a dread has anchored me

And in my mind I hear, "This will not hurt a bit."

That cannot fool me. No, I've been fed lies

Before today; I know now, here comes pain. I rise

Disturbing chairs, I cringe but fear goads me along

The maze of cubicles. He spins. The end is near.