Room behind that door

“And this is the judgment: that light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light…”
— John 3:19

The desperate prayers touch my lips,
I’m hungry — to stay alive.
Yet mournful wings hang at my sides —
Death is the price of life.

Black candles on the stone-cold walls,
I walked this path — a seer.
The room behind that door —
The empty cradle of fear.

It was before the sun went down,
When thunder split the firmament.
The rain was pounding in my mind —
An angel has been sent.

The darkness fell like ominous snow,
That door was opened in my way.
The blackened candles burned down low —
It seemed I’d gone insane.

The room behind that door —
Its vision stays the same.
The angel showed me home:
A cemetery in flame.

Grim figures held a fragile child,
The sweetest baby cried.
And silence slowly shattered mind —
In God’s own name, he died.

The angel spoke: “Let hell be done.
Let vice be burned away.
Your future’s dead — your fate undone.
You fall where none can stay.”

The room behind that door —
I'm moving back through time.
Who'll care for my wandering soul?
Just me — and days of mine.

No judgment speaks, no verdict falls —
Just truth against the lie.
Inside the room behind that door
Death names the justified.

Примечание
Текст написан в 1993 году для метал-проекта Arise.
Стилистически ориентирован на thrash metal и dark / doom metal начала 1990-х.
Публикуется как архивный материал; английский текст слегка отредактирован для языковой целостности при сохранении оригинальной структуры и образности.