It’s a dull blade
A discontinued masquerade
a weary path
I must go through
this perilous wrath
For I know this battle is worth the cost
Yet, so many minds are lost
as we are twisted from the mundane
forced into a whirl-wind of disdain.
Secured in an intangable vault,
lost of our hope. Peace, blindly, is saught.
But there is still strength to conitue
It is worth all our hope to persevere.
Fire can burn
swords can cut
you can enslave our trust
but our hope remains
this you will never be able to restrain.
One cry to bring us to our feet…
One ruler to declare, for us, victory.