Archivist Workbench v3.0

Lyrics:

The sterile white, a silent scream
Lost in the echo of a broken dream

My id, a ghost, a faded name
In this coma's grip, a dying flame
Her hands, once warm, now gloved and cold
Driving us toward a story untold

A flash, a crunch, the world went black
No turning back, no turning back

Head-on collision, fate's cruel art
Tore us apart, right from the start
I never truly woke, but I could feel
The icy touch of what was real

Intensive care, a guarded space
For shattered lives, and time's embrace
Accidents etched, a common thread
Among the living and the dead

Head-on collision, fate's cruel art
Tore us apart, right from the start
I never truly woke, but I could feel
The icy touch of what was real

A whispered name, a fading breath
Dancing with shadows, close to death
The hum of machines, a lullaby
Beneath a cold, unfeeling sky

In this coma's deep, I still remain
A silent witness to the pain
The gloves, the drive, the final sound
Lost, forever, on broken ground.

#ComaDreams #DarkAmbient #atmospheric #Storytelling #SadSong

Words: 0 | Characters: 0

Head-On Collision