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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.

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