The cold was here before my name, a silence carved in stone and flame. Steps echo through the chapel dust, I wear no faith, I carry trust. The walls remember every war, they keep the screams beneath the floor. I found a crown beneath the ash, not forged for glory, built to last. Ashlight crown, I rise and burn, torch the path where tyrants turn. From fractured gold and rusted bone, I make my vow: I stand alone. The bells are gone, the choir drowned, but every note still shakes the ground. They built their songs to break my breath, I shaped my voice from what was left. Let thunder come, let silence break, I’ll carve my hymn for fire’s sake. No coronation, no regret, just light where none was burning yet. Ashlight crown, I rise and burn, torch the path where tyrants turn. No velvet rule, no shadow throne, I wear the flame, I walk alone.
