what kind of room is this that has no sun where all the days of empire come to rest no heat no cold no sense of anyone forgiveness blurred for sins no one confessed is this the way damnation comes these days darkness masquerading as frozen light like cockroaches the prayers scuttle away from the sudden glare of our electric night is this the way the other ones survive cowering into the rhythm of their breath counting the hours they pretend to be alive and worshipping the secret of their death stop don't stop begin and never end failure lies in wait for everyone nothing's broken nothing's there to mend time has vanished till the grey is done