Circle Of Ouroborus Remnants Of A King
A fallen throne in a fallen palace
Glows sadly like the eyes of an old man
There the remnants of glory
Withered to dust and bones
A majestic figure and stainless eyes
Now eaten by the smallest rats
A pounding heart and flaming blood
Now silent and faded away
Every tear of joy and grief
Every home of belief
Every pride and every shame
Now forgotten and without a name
Stone tablets full of honor and deeds
Bronze trumpets ready for fanfares
But who has skills to read or play
To remember this long and sad tale?
Gather gold and build monuments
See them rise and hear the cheer
In the end you are all the same
The king, the beggar, all the same
Every tear of joy and grief
Every hour of belief
Every pride and every shame
Now forgotten and without a name
For such is the way of this world
Where all glory is stained with old dust
Rising from the feet of fallen enemies
Descending over the tombs of victory
There is no sound or remembrance
No pictures to decorate the forgotten halls
An empire stripped of life
The woods crackle with age
Every tear of joy and grief
Every hour of belief
Every pride and every shame
Now forgotten and without a name
Every small laugh and glee
Every great victory
Every drop of existence
Now gone like everything else
Every tear
Every grief
Every hour
Every pride
Every shame
Every laugh
Every victory
Everything