Second Death - Becoming The Archetype

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