I Wonder If You Always Tell The Truth

Home | A Pleonexic Urge | The Root Of Motion | When The Candles Are Out | Love Songs To The Dead | Titans And Turncoats | This Lovers' Life We Lead | Prayers To A Ghost | Your Opening Eyes Nigh | The Enterprise Of The New Routine | Orphans And Demagogues | Nocturnal Emissions | The Fortune Of Failure | Transcension Beneath The Bitter Sun | Watching The Furnace Fire | Adventures Of The Crimson Enigma | Memoirs Of A Mercenary | My True History | I Never Knew Him | Midnight Rambling | From The Silence

A Sky The Colour Of Death Exploded

A sky the colour of death exploded,

Cracked by the pressure of its children’s tears;

Originated in the orphaned light

That fled when sediment of shadow wore

Away the face that guided safe their trial;

Betrayed beneath a moon whose half-hid face

Shall curse the sun and then usurp his throne.


A monument of madness, fire-razed, rests

Beside the wasted ruin of their home.

Where those who walked tip-toed to touch the sky

Would weep that without sound how could they know

That in the wind their answer might be found;

Apocalyptic questions they were asked,

And failed to see a future come to pass.


So there sits the ever-unrising sun

Upon the calloused hand of he that holds

The season’s turn within a stringent grasp,

To roll no more across the sea of sky

Whose waves have tossed its splintered hull aside;

Have sold as slaves dawn’s subjects to the night,

And drowned them in a promise of rebirth.


Among the century of hands that crease

The folds of time, are passed along the days

Collected when the dust alights upon

The holy trinity of ages past -

A sky the colour of death exploding

Over monuments of madness fire-razed,

Felled beside the ever-unrising sun.