broken – The Light is On

Recycled Souls

Each moment must die before the next is born...

Out of all these fragments a message comes, the decayed whispering a constant warning...

Decay is the crumbling walls between what seems safe and what seems familiar...

The wild kings live breathing as one, and the final escape seems unreachable...

After the wave broke and rolled back we came to the beach to see what had washed ashore...

Take to the iron barricade and hold the gate until all the stars have fallen into shadow...

I think it was the waves lapping at the rocks that really drove it home...

Out into the storm she went to soak in the acid rain...

Walking through the halls—a shadow drifting at the edges, the far corners of a mind given way to raving at the night through broken windows...

It was out on the broken glass slopes of mountains that towered as kings over the wild-light desert where I watched the ruby sky turn to ink...