First cry last light

Cold skin, no blanket, no name—just tubes and white lies,

Doctors whisper Latin, masks hiding their eyes.

Ventilator gasps like a dying god’s breath,

First scream—where’s the warmth? Where’s the death?

She signs ten poisons, ink shaking like fear,

“Moloch sacrificantes” echoes too near.

Her heart races his—too wild, too fast—

Then silence. Then beeps. Then the past. First cry, last light—

They carved your soul in the night.

Blood on the blade, wings in the dark,

Little king, you’re their spark.

Oh, we built you to burn,

To laugh while the world turns—

First cry, last light…

You’re not ours anymore.

Nurse grins like venom, doctor bleeds for the rite,

Red in a syringe—your first unholy bite.

But light rips the wall: owl, silver, and wrath—

Moloch descends, carves out the path.

She wakes in the corner, dreams bleeding real,

Snaps her fingers—time bends, evil kneels.

Black suit drags her, crash waits like fate,

Headlights stare back—too late, too late. First cry, last light—

They carved your soul in the night.

Blood on the blade, wings in the dark,

Little king, you’re their spark.

Oh, we built you to burn,

To laugh while the world turns—

First cry, last light…

You’re not ours anymore. (quiet) I felt your pulse like thunder…

Now headlines scream: mothers gone, sons lost.

A hundred thousand graves—same crash, same cost.

But you pointed at demons, you laughed through the pain—

You’re not the victim… you’re the chain.

(voice rises) The changeover’s here—

And I’m the ghost who let you in. First cry, last light—

They carved your soul in the night.

Blood on the blade, wings in the dark,

Little king, you’re their spark.

Oh, we built you to burn,

To laugh while the world turns—

First cry… last light…

You’re not ours…

(whisper) …anymore.