In your house where you speak of honor,
Where you live and lie in every corner,
Your sword is rusty,
And courage is dusty,
Where you fall without shame,
And you refuse to play the game.
Bow your head in the misery you felt,
Now the kingdom of fallen is rotting in hell.

In your shop, blacksmith! You forged many swords,
Where you seek and hide in every spot,
Your swords are rusty,
Your pride is dusty,
Where you refuse to give up the fight,
And you denied to hunt in the night.
Bow your head in the misery you felt,
Now the kingdom of fallen is rotting in hell.

Hey you! You soldier! Where is the battalion?
Why are you walking? Where is the stallion?
Why is your sword rusty?
And your forehead dusty?
Where is the King you swore to serve?
Where is the General who didn’t preserve?
Don’t bow your head for the misery you felt,
But the kingdom of fallen is rotting in hell.

copyright © Philosophical Pen

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