The Guardian or The Warden

Consider a maze made of glass. All the walls sheer and perfect and utterly clear. All turns and twists and dead ends made one by the physics of it all.

You walk this maze blind. The harsh fluorescent light above strike glances off the walls right into your eyes. Never before have you been able to see more. Never before has it meant so little.

The turns are sharp and oblong, some square. Although all corners are cut with perfect precision there becomes a certain circling of all the vertical edges you peer through.

This is a trap meant to show you all the menace that has yet to come. This is a mockery. There is the middle, those are the bounds. All a taunting uselessness.

What use is the solution when you see right through it. All edges clearly defined but refracted back endlesslessly until nothing is clear; nothing is perfect; nothing is precise.

And still you walk, careful to approach the solution in a slow and methodical manner.
This is a question that confronts you with your own reflection. This is a question you must ask yourself.

If only you could get past yourself.