Spiraling down quicker and faster,
the knives carve grooves along the
way, to a deeper and darker
place, I shall now forever stay.

Trapped in the blackness that
erases my past. Trapped in the
evil that still yet casts
A shadow of sinister against
The future, a tinge of the vile
And a pray to the alter.

But what is the light without the
dark? And what would be good
less the evil? Two become one in my paradise
of pleasure. One becomes I
in the sentence of my perdition.

~Corbs