This is no place for the faint of heart or the wicked in deed.
No cowards with guns, no bunker warrior urban repressors.
No hostel for lovers nor sanctum for pilgrims.
No preaching of holy-thou's or prophets of greed.
Here there be monsters in form of fire and fall.
Here there be redemption in the sollice of a moonless balcony
Waiting for its inagural leap.
May the Recluse song bring you the dull ache of the broken.
In spirit in heart in promise and word.
Come now to the cardhouse catastrophe of my ascension.
Where we burn alone, and fall without fear.
