When once I could not think too clearly,cursed with constant aimless weary,I paint my face within a city in which I play a meager role.Into the woods I went lamentingI found a prospect rather tempting;I paint my face; my eyes, they see the Lotus, a new goal.I confess my quest is not the best.My hands drew forth, I did forgeteach parable that my mother had whispered all in vain.So then, like Eve, I bit the flower.The euphoric rush brought too much power.I felt the pleasure turn to pressure and then to unrelenting pain.How will I leave this place unhandedwhilst I am hopelessly so stranded?How am I to tell a foe from those who'd truly lead the way?The sun sets, despite my cries for gracesI forget my family's loving facesI forget each name of all Earth's placesI lose my self-essential traces.I wander pointlessly into the deeper woods.