Becoming the archetype - Second death
Surrounded by darkness
My body cold
My spirit weak
My greatest attempts to start a fire have proved to be in vain
The flame always fades
The warmth never lasts
And the freezing grip of death is at my throat again
Consumed by despair
My final breath escapes
I can hear the sound of a fire burning all around me
Yet I see no light
I feel no warmth
I find no rest
My body cold
My spirit weak
My greatest attempts to start a fire have proved to be in vain
The flame always fades
The warmth never lasts
And the freezing grip of death is at my throat again
Consumed by despair
My final breath escapes
I can hear the sound of a fire burning all around me
Yet I see no light
I feel no warmth
I find no rest
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