Featured Poem: Labyrinth

Labyrinth by Jorge Luis Borges

There’ll never be a door. You’re inside

and the keep encompasses the world

and has neither obverse nor reverse

nor circling wall nor secret center.

Hope not that the straitness of your path

that stubbornly branches off in two,

and stubbornly branches off in two,

will have an end. Your fate is ironbound,

as if your judge. Forget the onslaught

of the bull that is a man and whose

strange and plural form haunts the tangle

of unending interwoven stone.

He does not exist. In the black dusk

hope not even for the savage beast.

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