lastCALL

The figure in the ivory room
Sits on a golden throne
Reaches across the ivory desk
Picks up a golden telephone

Presses the receiver close
There is no dial tone
Voice echoes around the room
Realises they are alone

1000-dollar suit chafes
Trapped, uncomfortable heat
Air is still and heavy
Before the cycle repeats

The figure in the ivory room
Sat upon a golden throne
Reached across the desk again
Picked up the golden phone

Pressed the receiver close
“Fuck” no dial tone
Fear now fills the room
Realising they are truly alone

Confusion, gazing around
Beyond the screen, displays
An ash grey wasteland
Bleached by unfiltered rays

Rewind, the cycle repeats
Sweating, drops the phone
Calling out again in terror
Alone, upon a golden throne

Rewind, drops the phone
Only this empty place intact
Life erased beyond the glass
Bleached away by a violent pact

Intended as a sanctuary
Lead lined prison now a hell
A story trapped deep underground
With no one left to tell

-Rewind-

Screaming down the phone
“This all belongs to me.
The ruler of this empty wasteland.
The god of death and misery”

No one ever answers
Cycle repeating countless times
An incessant, unrelenting loop
A penance for a million crimes?

Has silence bred insanity
Or a punishment, purgatory
Smearing shit on ivory walls
Only ghosts left to hear this story

Rewind…