As fevers rise with the snowfall And wrath swells within us all Celestial wingspans banish the darkness of doubt. There is nothing left here to praise No hope to be found from the magistrates We set hearts ablaze to warm the hands of the devout.
Processions carve through the finest armor An armistice dirge is sung A ragged man march through the city streets, in tattered shoes and blackened lungs.
No more must they trade in contagion No more must children subsist on waste Disgorged are the coins that the fiends forced them to taste.
Gluttons are the demons’ thralls They host the vilest spirits’ spawn By empyrean flames, let them perish by the dawn.
The power that once was held By monarchs, cowards, and thieves Cannot stand against the righteous might of the many that still believe.
Your lies can never heal the wounded ones Daggers through the eyes – an accursed face No heroes can there be under gilded chains In the jagged crown’s embrace See the fires of insurrection ignite new joy This Elysian doom The Heavens echo the funeral rites As we lay to rest our gloom.