Blackout Poem 1 (Frankenstein, Ch. 17)

Day after day,
I clung to my spirits,
eradicating the remains of my melancholy
with a devouring blackness,
silent and listless.

I'm not really sure what that means, but I like how it sounds, soooo...
And yeah, I guess this is technically white-out poetry, not blackout, but whatever.

Text from Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. It's on the first page of Chapter 17(I think there are also versions of the book where it's two "volumes" of 12 chapters each, in which case this would be chapter 5 of volume 2).