I'm a stone collector,
A slave to the labyrinth.
The more stones I feed it
The greedier it becomes.
It's an obsession
Everywhere I walk
I find myself looking for stones
Any shape, composition, colour,
There's no discrimination
Filling pockets and bags.
I bring them back to the labyrinth
Without any fail
They seem to disappear
To merge in its structure effortlessly
I hear it murmur: More, ever more!
And I go to search more
To sate its infinite appetite
Such a monstrous master.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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