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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.