Vesuvius (Metalcore) - This House Is Not A Home lyrics

I've reached the crux With bent and dissonant faith The gripping violence in my calm Allocates no escape Discourse, disharmony Subdued in a bleak and dreamless sleep Grandeur and larceny The volatile becomes my verity Desaturate these dismal eyes Clot the flux to my cortex Conceal the maelstrom inside I still discern the scars of your abandonment Mother Where has the sun gone? This old soul has felt far too cold for too long And I'll wait Through the darkest winter My brittle bones buried in the creases of your bed And I'll wait Six feet under For you to come home To speak my name again I've come to find my depth My place of solace, my place of rest A skeleton drowning in the tides of your shadow My laden conscience eviscerated and hollowed Disperse these umbral skies Retrieve my inherited demons So I can sleep at night And I'll wait Through the darkest winter My brittle bones buried in the creases of your bed And I'll wait, Six feet under For you to come home To speak my name again I found God in my sleep last night In a place so vast, a space so dark A void I'd crawl into on the premise that I would never awake And we spoke Oh, we spoke endlessly, blissfully of nothing His words were deafening His words were silent, defiant of my notoriety Violent as my nature, and quiet as my thought His quivers ripple through the seams of my anatomy His words shattered my ribcage Destructive as my subconscious And I looked into his eyes an ounce short of conviction and said that I don't want to die With affirmation he stated that I will find d**h in the darkest corners of the greatest perhaps And to find myself I must have faith in that Return me to the empty house in which I grew Where I would converse with ghosts, a crawl space with a roof And I know that I don't know who The voice that calls from the other end pertains to But I remember in my solitude You were there too Father Where has the light fled? A broken boy beaten and crucified At the hands of your surrogate With the remnants of this vessel I will submerge my contempt This repression is a loaded gun I've cut the flux to my vitals I am my father's son