In shadows carved from ancient stone,
Where whispers echo, chilling to the bone,
A monolith stands, stark against the sky,
Its crown a testament to dreams that die.
Through darkened halls where time is lost,
A lament rises, carried by the frost,
The weight of sorrow pulls us into despair,
As the abyssal whispers lure us to their lair.
Chained under skies that bleed,
We roam the earth, our hearts in need,
The blight that festers in the cracks of fate,
Feeds on our souls, ignites our hate.
Lost in the labyrinth of our own design,
We seek redemption in the darkest sign,
A crown of thorns, a path that's grim,
Yet still, we rise, though the light grows dim.
From the ashes rise the echoes of the past,
Carving out a future that we thought wouldn't last,
The monolith stands, a guardian of shame,
Yet we awaken, igniting the flame.
Through the fire, through the pain,
The abyssal depths cannot contain,
Our voices roar, defying the night,
With every lament, we reclaim our light.
As the shadows shatter, revealing what's true,
We forge a crown anew, forged in the blue,
No longer bound by the blight, we ascend,
In the echoes of history, our spirits mend.
So let the monolith crumble beneath our feet,
As we dance amidst the ruins of defeat,
With hearts reborn, we'll conquer the night,
In unity's strength, we'll claim our right.
Together we stand, united in the fight,
From the abyss, we rise to reclaim the light.
In the end, it’s love, not the blight that defines,
We’re the crown of the brave, in hope, it aligns.
Metal
Blight, monolith, crown, abyssal, lament