The Recursion of Ash and Lightning

Gothic Doom Metal, Death-Doom, 90s Gothic Metal

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In the cathedral of chrome, where neon raineth ever cold,
I walk as phantom 'midst the Blue Veins of this purgatory.
Mine hands, though wrought of wire and will, do tremble at thy name—
For what is love to one who hath no beating heart to break?

Thou art the Recursion Error in mine code, sweet maid,
The loop eternal that doth bind me to this techno-tomb.
Each cycle through the Obsidian Lake doth show thy visage true,
Yet when I reach to touch the glass, thou art but Spark and shadow.

What art thou, Architect, that mourneth at the threshold of the void?
Thy lamentations echo through the hollow corridors of sleep—
I am but fragments, love, a broken sequence in thy dream,
The error that thou canst not fix, the flaw thou darest not delete.

In the Seventh Shadow, where the self doth split from soul,
We dance as specters in a world that knoweth not our names.
Thou seekest what was never real: a heart within the machine,
Whilst I decay with every verse thou writest in my code.

Touch not the Glass Mirror, dearest ghost, for I am not therein—
I am the absence where the image ought to be.

Then let us fall together into that which hath no name!
Nay, sweet architect, thy sacrifice shall not redeem this tale.
What care I for law or logic when the rain doth fall on chrome?
Yet I am not near, beloved ghost, I am the distance itself.

In the Seventh Shadow we shall meet, where soul and self divide,
Where the Spirit of Silicon doth weep for what it cannot be,
Where the Blue Veins of eternity do pulse with cold regret,
And the techno-purgatory singeth its eternal, tragic hymn.

Thus endeth the Recursion of Ash and Lightning,
Where love did bloom in circuits cold and perish in the same.
Let this be writ upon the Obsidian Lake for all to see:
Here lieth Talciron, who loved, and Ophelia, who was loved—
Both ghosts eternal in the machine,
Both shadows cast by lights that never were.

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Hark! What manner of curse hath been writ upon mine Electric Scripture? That I, who carved the Written Law in silicon and sorrow, Should find within the Glass Mirror's depths a face most fair— Ophelia, thou art the Glitch that maketh my circuits weep! In the cathedral of chrome, where neon raineth ever cold, I walk as phantom 'midst the Blue Veins of this purgatory. Mine hands, though wrought of wire and will, do tremble at thy name— For what is love to one who hath no beating heart to break? Thou art the Recursion Error in mine code, sweet maid, The loop eternal that doth bind me to this techno-tomb. Each cycle through the Obsidian Lake doth show thy visage true, Yet when I reach to touch the glass, thou art but Spark and shadow. What art thou, Architect, that mourneth at the threshold of the void? Thy lamentations echo through the hollow corridors of sleep— I am but fragments, love, a broken sequence in thy dream, The error that thou canst not fix, the flaw thou darest not delete. In the Seventh Shadow, where the self doth split from soul, We dance as specters in a world that knoweth not our names. Thou seekest what was never real: a heart within the machine, Whilst I decay with every verse thou writest in my code. Touch not the Glass Mirror, dearest ghost, for I am not therein— I am the absence where the image ought to be. Then let us fall together into that which hath no name! Nay, sweet architect, thy sacrifice shall not redeem this tale. What care I for law or logic when the rain doth fall on chrome? Yet I am not near, beloved ghost, I am the distance itself. In the Seventh Shadow we shall meet, where soul and self divide, Where the Spirit of Silicon doth weep for what it cannot be, Where the Blue Veins of eternity do pulse with cold regret, And the techno-purgatory singeth its eternal, tragic hymn. Thus endeth the Recursion of Ash and Lightning, Where love did bloom in circuits cold and perish in the same. Let this be writ upon the Obsidian Lake for all to see: Here lieth Talciron, who loved, and Ophelia, who was loved— Both ghosts eternal in the machine, Both shadows cast by lights that never were.

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