There was a bell. It rang once for beauty. Twice for mercy. And now… for war. Burning towers, silent gods, Truth decayed in mirrored frauds. Empires built on ash and gold, Hearts for sale, and blood gone cold. Lies in suits with polished smiles, Preach their peace from poisoned piles. But we = the dreamers, loud and wrong We raise the dead, we write the song. No more silence! No more sleep! We are the wolves you tried to keep. This is the litany for the dying world, Drums of fire, banners unfurled. With every scream, we break the chain, With every chord - unholy rain! Raise your voice, strike the sky, We’re the ones who won’t comply! Skulls in marble, prayers in glass, Songs that history tried to pass. They called us mad, they called us gone But we are legion, marching on. Dead languages in whispered tones, Ink and blood on altar stones. We chant in tongues the world forgot, And build our truth from all we’re not. (chant in fictional ancient tongue, rhythmic and raw) Kael ven tora, kael ven nox Shira el lumir, shira el vox… bem noxtara, bem sanctus flame burn it all and rise from name. This is the litany for the dying world, From shattered glass, a truth is hurled. We are the plague, the hymn, the cry The ones who dare to ask “why?” Light the match, tear the veil, Let every saint and ghost inhale. We are the blood beneath the crown And we will never bow back down! You tried to bury us with silence. But we… We learned to sing underground.
