I’ve lost myself. That bit I’d found anyway. Definetly, Maybe that bit was wrong. Maybe the world was right when I refused to listen. When it tried to pull me back from the terra incognita. But I was half-mad, raving about like a lunatic, knowing there was no cure but to go on. Onwards through everything sweet and coy. Everything bitter and turbid.
Who do you run to? I know the answer. Its not you. Its not a single one of you. It’ll never be anyone of you.