Tuesday, November 9, 2010


Willed by winter's so called frost 
Fix the in anxieties from grip 
The frost that burned the honorees 
Underneath the heavy clouds 
The lifted sword, the broken shield 
The hand that drew the final word 
From the frozen mouth of Arkhangelsk 

Let them go, let them burn the world to cinders 
Let the rats run down 
Falling through the tungsten skies 
The burning clouds of Arkhangelsk 

To the eye of judgement now 
What will stand when time of the end (time of the end)? 

Center stone, into fire 
All to nothing and nothing to lose 
They gather groaning to the souls 
Of the grinding wheels of Arkhangelsk 

With one word, one movement in the fabric 
Everything dies 
The storm that sweeps the world away 
From the frozen plains of Arkhangelsk 

Inherit from the morning star 
What others brought 
And the land, forgot 

Soaring through van allen belts 
Through blazing stars, through dying suns 
Collide not now, but carry us 
Through the burning air of Arkhangelsk

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