[Verse 1 – low, deliberate, like recounting a nightmare you survived] The night came down like hammered lead, no moon, no mercy, only steel, We stood shoulder to shoulder where the ground itself began to kneel. The air was thick with screaming iron, the earth drank blood instead of rain, And every heartbeat asked the question: will we ever stand again? [Verse 2 – faster, breathless, the memory of panic] They broke the line at the eastern flank, the shields cracked like winter ice, I saw the Wizard fall to one knee, eyes wide with the price. The Barbarian roared till his voice gave out, axe splintered at the haft, And I felt the Ancients turn away—like even gods had seen enough. [Verse 3 – voice drops to almost a whisper, the moment hope died] We were five against a thousand shadows, five against the ending tide, My sword was notched, my oaths were ragged, my prayers had all but died. I looked at friends I’d buried once inside my heart before the dawn, And thought: this is how the stories close—this is how the light is gone. [Chorus – raw, desperate, sung like a plea] Hold the line, hold the line, Though the dark is wide and the dawn feels blind, Hold the line, hold the line, Till the morning finds us still alive. [Verse 4 – sudden lift, cracked but rising, the impossible turn] Then the Cleric laughed—a broken sound—and poured his last light on the ground, It blazed up white and furious, a sunrise no night could drown. The Thief appeared where death had stood and cut the tendons of the storm, The Barbarian found a shard of axe and carved himself a second form. [Verse 5 – fierce now, voice climbing, blood still singing] I called the Thornwood through my veins, felt every root and leaf and thorn, The green itself rose up in wrath for children yet to be born. We pushed them back across the ruin, step by bleeding step we took, Till the shadow broke and ran like smoke before the morning that we shook. [Chorus – triumphant, exhausted, everyone shouting the last two lines] Hold the line, hold the line! Though the dark was wide, the dawn dragged it behind— We held the line, we held the line, And the morning found us still alive. [Final Verse – slow again, soft, almost reverent] Now the field is quiet, littered iron, littered bone, littered grace, The sun climbs slow across the scars upon each soot-streaked face. We do not speak; we only breathe, and lean on what is left of shields, Five fools who should have died by rights— yet somehow still stand on this field. [Final Chorus – hushed at first, then swelling until the rafters ring] We held the line, we held the line, When every star went out and the gods resigned— We held the line, we held the line, And the morning found us still alive. Still alive… Still alive.
