Around... all around
The shadows gather
My dread grows as the stoke of death
Falls against my naked soul.
It slays me,
And darkly my essence drips
To the wicked earth
That is my prison.
In numbness I beg forgiveness
While death's shadow looms.
Now alone, my soul falls
Upon darkened eyes.
This... is my hell.
So be wellcome, my casa es su casa
we have cookies and sour milk.
