A man finds himself trapped in a world of fire, shadows, and judgment - chased for knowledge, condemned by faith. Through soot-covered streets and forgotten memories, he walks toward an end… or a beginning.
Was it all a dream - or something he truly lived?
Lyrics:
Woke in rags, to smoke and stone,
No compass left, no voice, no phone.
Inquisitors chant in blood-red hoods,
Truth drowns deep in holy woods.
Ashes of the clock, turned to dust,
By law of fire, by crown and lust.
The cross is sharp, the sky won’t speak —
A soul misplaced, a world antique.
Rats in streets, the bells toll slow,
"Bring out your dead" — the black winds blow.
Witches hang with eyes still wide,
While nobles feast and serfs all die.
Ashes of the clock, silence screams,
Where science burns and bleeds in dreams.
Confess or rot, the pyres rise —
The price of thought is now your life.
A monk with nails, a script of sin,
They pull me where the dark begins.
The stars are cursed, the moon is law —
And every saint still bears a flaw.
Ashes of the clock, time betrayed,
By sword and plague and heaven's blade.
I walk unknown, through soot and stone —
A future man, now overthrown.
"Repent," they cry, "or burn like lore."
