A teacher of mine once said that we make mythology our own by taking the stories and retelling them with our own interpretation (like Albert Camus' "The Myth of Sisyphus"). This is what I wrote:
Ariadne and the Minotaur
She hears the rumbling in the halls
The low breath of a monster on the other side
Of the low labyrinth wall
And the shining thread lying behind her
Always behind her, but the breath surrounds her
Hot steam on her shoulder...
At night they must sleep in the shadows of the walls
And she can hear the breath in her dreams
As she lies in his arms beneath a canopy of stars
She isn't safe inside his love tonight
Her nightmares are tangible, stalk the glib alleys
They find her and pull off her blankets
In the morning the sound is an earthquake
And Theseus is barely listening
He doesn?t notice when she falls down
The thread wraps around her feet to bind her to the walls
But she struggles up and on learning ever so slowly
Love is breaking her heart but creating her strength