On that grey morn,
A thousand promises
Sworn in solemn halls
Shall be shattered as glass
At the hammer-blow of Awe.
On that cold dawn,
A thousand banners
Flown from castle walls
Shall be tattered and torn down
At the trumpet-sound of Truth.
The banners are yet flying,
Though the Emperor lies dying.
In the fading glow of false Glory,
A thousand candles
Lit to ward off Fate
Surround his bedside.
In the fortress of Wars unholy,
A thousand soldiers
Armed with swords of Hate
Stand guard against the tide,
Yet cannot halt the ceaseless march of Time.
The day shall soon be here,
When Love shall banish War and Fear.
On that new day,
The changing winds
Shall blow them all away
As grains of sand on a peaceful shore.
The sun shall rise, and men shall be free
From the prison of their sad history...
When Empires are no more.
Everything is going DĮË...
Blood from all those who breathe life will paint the streets RėD...
Friendships will be TĒśtêD...
Loyalties will be BRøkEN...
And there's nothing you can do to StÕP įT...
