In the quiet halls of stone, I raise my voice, but not alone. For in the dark, the prophets weep, Their echoes guide me as I sleep. Sanctified shadows, whispers of grace, I wear this faith like a veil on my face. Beneath the moon, I bow to the night, In silence I serve, in shadows I fight. Abandoned child, I found my way, In the convent walls, I learned to pray. To gods unseen, I gave my heart, And from the light, I set apart. Sanctified shadows, whispers of grace, I wear this faith like a veil on my face. Beneath the moon, I bow to the night, In silence I serve, in shadows I fight. To the prophets, I give my breath, In their names, I conquer death. I carve their truths in blood and bone, In every battle, I am their throne. Sanctified shadows, whispers of grace, I wear this faith like a veil on my face. Beneath the moon, I bow to the night, In silence I serve, in shadows I fight. So hear my song, though none may see, The silent prayers inside of me. For every blade that bears my name, Is but a hymn to your sacred flame.
