The Crystal Maze

The walls were pink with no apparent doors,
but the sort of problem that a genius ignores,
a heart shaped room that I'd been thrust into,
to find an exit and excitement for me and you.

A vein opened called Aorta not like Ayshea,
which guided us thro' corridors to Insha Allah,
escape thro' cerise heaven into paradise,
up spiral stair but turned out to be half as nice.

Although there were virgins and flowing wine,
abundant grapes hanging from trees oh so fine,
flowing streams, crystal clear water and nicotine,
but how could beauty be clouded in between.

We were free, what gifts awaited, free spirits,
but we didn't know that temptation was off limits.