Born
with the face of a fearsome beast,
To
earthly King and Queen of men,
Once
every year on youth it feasts,
Of
those who are brought to its den
The
corridors, they twist and turn,
The
beast has lost its way,
And
now he moans, for his heart burns,
To
glimpse the light of day,
Yet
such a wish cannot come true,
The
beast must walk the maze,
And
in the dark, how its rage grew,
‘Till
it yearned only to raze,
And
now the beast must walk alone,
Along
a twisting path,
To for his mother's wrongs atone,
And
curb a sea god’s wrath,
Then
one day came a man of Crete,
Bearing
a sword of gold,
To
slay the monster when they meet,
Is
he fool or bold?
The
Minotaur, now ages old,
Lives
through only might,
With
mind now gone and heart stone-cold,
He
feels now only spite,
When
comes the man of Crete to the Bull-man’s hellish den,
Their
battle rages fierce and long,
The
Monster meets its end
