I can bear the crown or crawl beneath the chain, Move mountains with my hands or dig the quiet grave again. Will I fade unnoticed like footsteps drowned in snow? Did my breath leave anything in this world I’ve come to know? Time keeps pulling forward, and none of us outrun the day Running circles in a war we were never meant to sway. At the throne of the setting day, we collapse beneath the dying rays. When the gold turns cold and the horizon falls away Fate becomes the faith we hold, and belief becomes the blade. As above, so below every soul becomes the same shadow. On the throne of the setting day, even the crowned will fade. Fill your vessel past the brim, be the storm, don’t bow or bend. Come the fire or the rising tide, we all meet the same dead end. How do I find purpose in a world that lets go? If I cling to something higher, will it carry what I owe? In the hollow where the light thins out, our hope dissolves like rain Don’t you feel it? We leave this world the same way we came. Caught in the chase, from cradle to decay Don’t you feel it? We leave the same way. Every step I gave still sank into the dust Tell me what remains when time outgrows us. If all we are is borrowed breath then let it break. As above, so below life will press on when we let go. Every hunter finds the end, every throne returns to stone. At the edge of borrowed time, we’re all stripped down to the bone. On the throne of the setting day, even gods walk home alone.
