A working man returns, unjustified,
Across the threshold into pain. His home
No more a fortress, now the soul must roam
Condemned, to walk among the crucified.
The siren speaks, its last call yet denied
As hope decays inside a catacomb;
His hearth, a shroud of talon black, the home
A place of shame, where anxious tears abide.
The broken dawn hangs ripe with sacrifice;
This fallen king now seeks a throne beneath,
And flesh and blood must pay the ransom price.
The servant strives, a hollow Abraham,
Unleashes cold destruction from the sheath,
And sinks beneath the fire into the ice.