Arkhangelsk
Held by winter's chokehold fastFixed in anxiety's firm gripFrost that burn the arteries
Underneath the heavy cloudsThe lifted sword, the broken shieldThe hand that drew the final wordFrom the frozen mouth of Arkhangelsk
Let them go, let them burn the world to cindersLet their heads hang downFalling through the tungsten skiesOn the burning grounds of Arkhangelsk
To the eye of judgement nowOne will stand in time of the end
Sun to stone, air to fireAll to nothing and nothing to nilThey gather, drowning in the droneOf the grinding wheels of Arkhangelsk
With one word, one movement in the fabricEverything diesThe storm that sweeps the world awayFrom the frozen plains of Arkhangelsk
Inherit from the morning starWhat others broughtAnd the land forgot
Soaring through van allen beltsThrough blazing stars, through dying sunsCollide not now, but carry usThrough the burning air of Arkhangelsk