Lost in the fog of my thoughts and emotions, searching for the door lacking the handle. I am lost in the mists the tree can no longer be seen, I haven't felt the touch of the iron and the warmth it brings. I hold the fruit in my hands, wondering what happiness it could bring. Walking aimlessly and confused, where forward could be backward and backward could be forward. Wondering if all the lies for me is the deep dark abyss where the man himself who was cast out shall live, unless I choose to open that door and let thy brother in, and partake of his water whose knowledge shall never end.