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Lover, dread agent of pleasure and pain

Might it be a path of beauty, rather than the shortest of solitude we should run?

For all roads end in goodbye, whether aloud, silent, or whispered before no one

Let us pause, reflect on the life of the eater

Throw open its depths to eyes of the reader

Stationed beforehand at some secret stand

Walk by her vast halls, aside shadows dealt hand

What revolt of horror our prediction of this life

That dances and dies in the opiate mines

The highest of highs in a list of lows

Of greatest happiness 'twas an abstract of woe

Now buried in dreams of a sleeping mind

As painful to be born as is to die

But like all who come into this world alone

I know I shall leave her to wander alone

Pass her knowing that none hold heart

Ecstasy corked in a bottle of art

So go on eat now who never ate before

As those who always ate now eat more