[THE MINISTRY OF LOST SOULS]
There’s a door in the dark where the lost people go,
Where the dead leave footprints in fresh-fallen snow.
Where the clocks count backwards and black stars shine,
And the voice on the phone whispers, “You’re mine.”
Intro: Whispered, Like a Forgotten Prayer
They don’t hunt the broken. They don’t need to feign.
They just build you a heaven in the shape of your pain.
And when reality cracks and your faith comes undone,
They’ll sell you a world where you feel like “THE ONE”.
Verse I
I found a black letter on a rain-soaked night,
With my name in red ink and a seal bone-white.
“We regret your affliction. We’ve reviewed your despair.
The Ministry can help you. We know you’re out there.”
I followed its summons through the fog and the flame,
Past a church with no God and a street with no name.
Then a door opened wide in the heart of the gloom,
And the dead city loomed like a garden in bloom.
There were warm lights in windows, there were stars overhead,
And the voice of my mother, though my mother was dead.
She stood in the doorway, her eyes soft and kind,
With the face I had buried still alive in my mind.
I knew it was wrong, but I wanted it true;
What’s a lie to a heart that has nothing to lose?
So I stepped through the threshold, let the false heavens start,
And the door closed behind me like a hand round my heart.
Verse II
The streets were immaculate, the skies never grey,
And the sorrow I carried began fading away.
My mother made coffee. She laughed like before.
I forgot why I’d lost her. I forgot what I’d mourned.
But the smiles were rehearsed and the kindness was timed,
And the clocks on the walls showed a different passing of time.
There were mouths in the wallpaper, eyes in every reflection.
Every fear that I buried became part of the collection.
Pre-Chorus: Building
“Who owns all this heaven?” I demanded at last.
A clerk with no shadow said, “Your future. Your past.
Your grief was the gateway. Your loneliness the key.
You gave us permission when you begged to be free.”
Chorus: Dark, Anthemic**
WELCOME HOME TO THE MINISTRY OF LOST SOULS,
WHERE THE HEARTS ARE THE CURRENCY, THE WOUNDS ARE THE GOLD.
WHERE THEY FEED YOU A HEAVEN WHILE THEY FEED ON YOUR FEARS,
AND THEY TURN EVERY MEMORY TO PROFIT AND TEARS.
YOU CAN RUN FROM THE KINGDOM, YOU CAN SCREAM AT THE SKY,
BUT THE CAGE IS A MIRROR AND THE MIRROR CAN LIE.
IF THE WORLD IS A NIGHTMARE, WHAT PRICE WOULD YOU PAY
FOR A BEAUTIFUL FALSEHOOD THAT WON’T GO AWAY?
Verse III
I broke through a wall where the wallpaper bled,
Found a thousand small rooms full of names of the dead.
There were children asleep beneath fluorescent skies,
With their dreams being harvested, their mouths full of lies.
And behind the great counter, where the black ledgers lay,
Stood a thing dressed in human skin, smiling away.
It said, “We don’t create the despair that you bring.
We just build you a nest while we tighten the string.
“Your world made you desperate. Your world made you crawl.
We simply provide what you can’t see within anymore.
You call us the monsters. You call this a crime.
But you bought every second. We just charged you the time.”
I lunged for its throat, but it melted from sight,
And its voice came from speakers embedded in night.
“You can hate us tomorrow. Tonight, you’ll remain.
For the truth is much harder than this beautiful pain.”
Verse IV
I tore through the corridors, the walls rearranged,
Every door led to rooms where the years had been changed.
I saw my own face in a thousand dead screens,
Living lives I had wanted, fulfilling my dreams.
Then my mother appeared at the end of the hall,
With her hand reaching out through a fracture in the wall.
“Stay with me,” she whispered. “You’ve suffered enough.”
And I knew that the lie was a cruel imitation of love.
I turned from her fingers, though my soul begged me stay,
And I ran through the dark as the heavens decayed.
Bridge: Spoken, Unsettling
The stars fell like teeth. The moon split in two.
And the Ministry screamed:
“We were only helping you.”
I woke on the pavement beneath a dead sky,
With the rain falling upwards and crows flying by.
In my pocket, a letter, scrawled ink I knew well,
In my own handwriting, it reads,
“You can’t escape your own hell.”
Final Chorus: Larger, More Desperate
WELCOME HOME TO THE MINISTRY OF LOST SOULS,
WHERE THEY PURCHASE YOUR HEAVEN AND POSSESS WHAT THEY HOLD.
WHERE THE GODS WE INVENTED HAVE LEARNED HOW TO SELL,
AND THE DOORS TO OUR PARADISE OPEN TO HELL.
YOU CAN BURN EVERY LETTER, YOU CAN BURY THE KEY,
BUT THE THING THAT THEY PLANTED LIVES INSIDE THEE.
AND THE WORST OF THE NIGHTMARE, THE TRUTH YOU CAN’T DODGE
IS THE MONSTER IS HIDING BEHIND THE MIRAGE.
Outro: Whispered, Then Silence
If you hear ringing beneath where you stand,
Do not reach for an answer. Do not offer your hand.
The Ministry knows where you’re longing to be.
And somewhere beneath you,
The phone’s ringing for thee.
