Lying in the Dust of Creation

This world lies in the dust of its creation
Bedded in for the long dark nights
With the ash still falling, finding its way home
And I can hear only silence
As I walk along each street
With the wreckage still trapped beneath my feet
If it were white I might say that it was in some way beautiful
But the land and the sky is the colour of bone
And it carries a sulphurous stench and seems so alone
And the world has turned to stone

Stars fall from the Heavens with the breeze that blusters like the boots of a returning king
Hard and heavy, fast and insistent
Trudging each stone deeper into the crumbling crust of the earth's molten depths of despair
So long and weary is my journey with no destination to behold in the dim lit days
Am I late or am I early? I have no time to tell
Should I reawaken what was once caught in the skies
Dead now to my eyes?

Is it within me to walk along these grey washed walls of insanity
And find a way to bring back the light of day again?

There are no thieves in the night; there's not much point stealing silence
What then would left?
There's no time but the present, but there's only me to care anyway
The past is swallowed up and it's devoured in the stomach of the never-ending gall of life, bitter and broken
And tomorrow, well I'm sure that you'd agree
That nothing's guaranteed
Because time is just for measuring how long it was since you thought 'this is now' once before

This is now, as before

And the raindrops cry to the shadows after dark, weeping in the gloom
And the wind howls, beating up the muck and the murk
And with each blearing day I hear the trudging of my feet
Fading into the nothingness of the obsolete
And I... I think that I remember...
I think I recall
How in my childhood I once saw colour in this world

The vomit of the backlash, from misuse of intellect, caused a stir
But there's another storm brewing inside
I think I know that the futures will come but not until I've died in this cold, inferno burning with ice within my heart, still fragmenting into shards,
Daggers in my body and it's tearing me apart

I think I can remember how the birds once used to sing
When the sun raised its head to alight this world ablaze
But it is cold, and yet I'm burning as the ash pours down from the caverns in the sky,
So high, so deep
All the fire lost in flame of the disgrace, of the shame of living with nothing but a name
And even that means nothing, not when there's no one to let it escape from their lips
I cannot help but wonder... how long is left?