I've wandered quite a while now, and I think it's time to sit.
I'm beaten, bruised and battered; reaching the end of my wit.
Start sifting through statistics there must be something I missed.
Or maybe I'm just chasing wraiths, that never did exist.
I no longer see the sunshine, ever shrouded in this mist
the forest plays a game with me, "Can we make him lose his grip?"
It's bad enough these ******* maps resemble twisted acid trips,
But I think my compass finally broke, the needle spins and spins.
The path is hardly visible, with incessant turns and twists.
Every time I think It's straightened, it invariably splits.
I'll slowly saunter onward I've too much pride to quit.
I may be lost forever, but that's just how life is.