front house

The floor of heaven splits in two.Black fire burns a violent blue.The iron gates are frozen shut.A heavy heart. A spirit cut.The shadows crawl. The ceilings weep.A promise that the dark will keep.The air is thick with ash and lead.The silence echoes in the head.The river runs with molten glass.The phantom years refuse to pass.No clocks will strike. No bells will chime.A prison locked outside of time.The throat is dry. The water boils.The serpent sleeps in heavy coils.A million voices call in vain.A landscape etched in endless rain.The light is gone. The hollow stare.The final currency is care.You realize, as the smoke ascends:The nightmare starts where mercy ends.The floor of heaven splits in two.Black fire burns a violent blue.The iron gates are frozen shut.A heavy heart. A spirit cut.The shadows crawl. The ceilings weep.A promise that the dark will keep.The air is thick with ash and lead.The silence echoes in the head.The river runs with molten glass.The phantom years refuse to pa