Car Crash Symphony

Two worlds colliding in a car crash symphony of screaming metal. All I know is the hallowed eye of the sun looking over a godless land. Coming from seeing the ribs of children burning in a scorching fire to the sound of robins in maplewood. You shake my hand, blood dripping down my forearm; a nuclear skyline in my iris. A welcome home with antique chairs and old men in oil paintings. Dirt from my boots burrow into the fine lingings of the carpet. I follow you to a furnished room, doomsdays' tendrils ripping at my skin. Left alone with fresh clothes on bandaged hands. Out of place by the china and victorian decor. Left alone in a room with myself.