Analysis of Recursion

The narrow hallway was deserted, dark, and still.
I made a careful entrance through the nearest door,
encountering a little room that might instill
a sense of dread about the impulse to explore.
Inside a door marked 'A' I felt a fit of pique
upon encountering another door marked A,
and then a steady stream of A rooms, each of bleak
design, with B's inside the A's -- an odd array
of rooms with no detectable escape in sight:
Door A, Door A, Door A, Door A, each time a B
inside the A, a lock to block return, my plight
recurring repetitiously, a litany
of walls and doorways, first in one room, then the next,
until I found myself unable to maintain
lucidity. And so, perspiring and perplexed,
I crumpled limply to the floor amidst insane
desires to wreak destruction (though except for doors
no targets were available). With gasping breath
I kicked a Doorway A, and there in metaphors
of Satan's fathoms loomed a sight defying death:
a great abyss, an endless plummet to a black
profundity that rendered me a quivering
and helpless soul; an all-consuming cul-de-sac
that forced me back against the wall and wavering
between the two extremes. Then unexpectedly
Door B was open! In a rush I bounded through --
as if the final A room had ejected me --
to find another open B, and déjà vu
unswervingly embraced me as I quickly stepped
from room to room to room as every Doorway B
reopened and released me, and I fairly leapt
through blurry thresholds like an inmate running free:
Door B, Door B, Door B, Door B, each time the B
extinguishing the pointless presence of an A.
My single-minded function as evacuee
propelled me through the doorways till the entranceway
that long before seduced me from the narrow hall
was safely out of reach. And in an atmosphere
of resurrecting stillness, now, I can't recall
the purpose or condition of my being here.