The Maze

Twirling, skipping, never tripping
Walking on a fabric floor
A cloth call society,
                  whimsical, flighty
Spun by the human mind
.
An infinite house, identical rooms
Every step reveals a door
Chasing one's tail,
                    but her step doesn't fail
For what is there to see behind?
.
An endless staircase
Only see the next floor
Never look down,
                      and all those around
Will always respond in kind
.
But look, the shoes are slipping
The fabric is ripping
Her feet are sore,
                        can go no more
What are we trying to find?