The darkness of spirals is consuming me still. br Why does this life spin me into more strife? br Endless circles flowing from my cursed quill, br And the quill truly made sharp with penknife. br br Again, I feel black without and within. br It fills my mind with such miserable dreams, br My heart flows, a thick and crimson bloodstream, br My final breath is cried out, a sharp scream. br br No light escapes my prison of twilight. br My shackles are fetters of sunless gloom. br I only wish for a glimpse of starlight, br But I am imprisoned here in my dark tomb, br br This swirling black sea is so wintery. br The spirals are darkness that curses me.