Again I sense it...
The warmth of your thoughts is gone.
And the coldness gently rushes into my bones,
As the air is thinned out and light is scarce.
Tiny flames spark against each other into million sparks,
With the heavy air the pitch dark as background...
There's a shape coming to be in front of me,
From those million sparks...
It smells of sulfur and something sweet I can't make out.
But the feeling that comes from this is fear,
As I struggle to stand to it's eyesight.
The voice is deep and speaks sounds to my head,
Although their meaning is unknown to me.
As a delayed message the translation is by the same voice,
But now in English...