[Verse 1]
The sky split, fire rains, iron and chain,
Final refrain for the throne in my veins.
Stone saints stained, scriptures slain,
Crescent ascends where the crosses remain.
Cobbled the road with the bones of the bold,
Writin’ the end in the ink of the old.
Mehmet’s machines make the walls unfold,
Turnin’ the gold in mosaics to mold.
Domes crack, steel slaps, echoes collapse,
A symphony played on the strings of the past.
Breathin’ in ash where the scholars would preach,
History sinks in the blood on the streets.
[Chorus]
Final bells moan, last echoes roam,
Blades bring truth when the war horns drone.
From Hagia Sophia to the shores of the sea,
The city's last breath is buried in me.
[Verse 2]
Storm through the breaches, death in the breeze,
Banners get torn like the leaves from the trees.
Marble gets shattered, inscriptions erased,
Echoes of emperors lost in the waste.
Steel carves sermons in blood on the doors,
Latin dissolves in the clash of the swords.
Fires consume what the centuries made,
Wisdom reduced to the weight of a blade.
Churches defiled, the faithful dispersed,
Fate doesn’t favor the blessed, but the cursed.
Rome’s final heartbeat drowns in the flood,
Sealed in the stones and the scent of the blood.
[Chorus]
Final bells moan, last echoes roam,
Blades bring truth when the war horns drone.
From Hagia Sophia to the shores of the sea,
The city's last breath is buried in me.
[Outro]
Smoke rises where wisdom once stood. The voices of philosophers, poets, and priests are drowned beneath the clash of steel and the roar of conquest. The air is thick with the scent of burning parchment, the weight of history reduced to embers.
I walk these streets, but they are no longer mine. The empire is not falling—it has fallen. The last light of Rome has flickered out, and in its place, the future marches forward, indifferent to the ghosts it leaves behind.
