By the Scaean gates… we wait! Bronze in the sun… then smoke! Old men count the years… in ash! Mothers name their sons… like prayers! The wall stands… and listens! So does fate! We know the price… of pride! We know the cost… of song! The spear goes in! The heart stays open! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! What men call glory… The dust calls by its name! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! Under the high walls… All boastful blood… is the same! Hector at the gate… helm bright! Andromache’s grief… in the wind! Achilles… fire behind his name! Priam… bent under grief! No one leaves whole… from this! No one! We know the price… of pride! We know the cost… of song! The spear goes in! The heart stays open! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! What men call glory… The dust calls by its name! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! Under the high walls… All boastful blood… is the same! Not for triumph… not for mercy… But for the weight… of things unmade… A city held… in its own breath… A man held… by his fate! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! The wall remembers every oath… that broke in flame! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! Sing, goddess… of the wrath! Troy stands in the singing… And falls inside… the name! And still the names… remain… And still the walls… remember…
