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Midnight in Cocytus

Can never match the cold days ahead

Fading stains upon the walls of time let me know

The chosen sons are never coming home

A truth to be told, a pit to be crossed

The curse of hindsight mocks the shadows in the cave

Red rimmed insomnia, white knuckle tremors

Taught me well to think before I speak

I cast my voice forth into the outside

To scorn the silence beneath moribund stars

Breathing through the miasma of envenomed epochs

Made of me an antidote against farcical hope

Witness the precept in the vulture's claw

Impervious to eschatological blackmail

Will I throw the towel in or the gauntlet down

When the hand of Hades reaches out for me

Morning creeps befouled beyond recognition

Where lightning rakes the ice fields and hell no longer waits

Let it come anytime, anywhere

But not like this, no, not like this

Pictures at dawn paint skies of glass

Breath after breath this too shall pass