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Beneath the ashes of a dying world

The flames of tyranny still burn

Empires crumble, rise and fall

But the chains remain upon as all.

Carry us away, oh wind of change,

Through the coldest land, the winter gates.

With each gust, our spirits soar

Towards a future yet untold.

A crown of thorns upon our heads.

Weight of the chains, a constant dread

Forced to bow to the tyrant's will

Our spirits crushed, our souls unfulfilled.

With blackened hearts and souls on fire,

We ascend to the cause in despair.

Let our sons start the funeral pyre

Upon the bones of calamity's favourite heir.

Carry us away, oh wind of change,

Through the coldest land, the winter gates.

With each gust, our spirits soar

Towards a future yet untold.