Story of the old and dying ambers,
Old norms conquered by the future.
The bitter truth of the new era,
Resonates in whispers, and hushed voices,
In graves, of kings and men.
Of freedom and free men,
Blotches on the innocent,
And sinners trod with pride.
Yet mounting, drooling for better,
Those were the days I say.
When in times of rage and utter fury,
The symphony of chaos created mad ballads.
As I dance forlorn, enslaved I am,
For the betrayal tightens me.
Each step counted, and counted twice.
Will I be the first to witness?
A forlorn vision of my stars ablaze,
Is it too late to rhyme with fire?
The fiery stars gaze upon me,
My rage, my wrath, my anger,
Reflected in their immortal rays.
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