I am trapped it's hard to breathe.
It's different than before,
I'm not falling backwards
into this big smoke floor.

I'm not in some glass box,
where people watch and see
me lowered into water
dark ink washing over me.

Instead I'm in a pit,
being buried alive
no matter how I move,
I know I won't survive.

Oh sure I'll live, I'll carry on
but without some respite
I fear I'll empty out
and lose all my light.

In some dark place I fear
in this prison underground,
I'll just be walking circles
going round and round.