In the eyes of this bewitching shadow,
our minty laughs are only hollow;
for we have succumbed to this inquietude,
we have succumbed to this ugly solitude;
we are now falling into this vortex,
of which our feelings hold only complex;
we are now glimpsing our desolation,
we are now rising to this temptation,
we are now falling into this sorrow,
wherein we know not to breathe tomorrow.