Those Years, Condemned

(альбом: Páthos - 2022)

"March on, chosen sons
Freedom calls for us"
Sang loud those refrains
That greatness
Dwelled within our lungs and flowed through our veins

A feeble mind (Susceptible to)
All that it was granted
Kinship was promised (Realised)
Oh, how the joy spilled (From my eyes)
Would I wring the blood
From my heart
To drown but one foe

Oh, how it feels
How it seems so surreal
The joy that spilled from my eyes

March on (Those years condemned)
Chosen sons (By history)
Freedom (Still linger on)
Calls for us (Inside of me)

I feel it was all a dream
Yet my eyes were open

Did I once loathe
Those who would act with love?

The peal of our thunder, the crash of our waves
Once I was part of that chorus
With fervour I spit out my hatred and shame
But my eyes remain dry; their orders were "Do not cry"

Of all the good they took from us
The worst of all: our pity

If power lies in verse
Does once a hunger turn to horror?

I boarded the ship in cheerfulness
Gone are those happy hours
I was born
I was blessed
There was God
I was wrong
I was wronged