Children of the Clay: War Cry (Song)

This is only the first draft. As I continue revising this song, I will update this post accordingly.

Primarily written for Chrono Compendium’s Dream Splash entry, inspired by the Golems from the game Chrono Trigger (as well as actual golems from old folklores), I’m actually considering collaborating with a musician to turn this into an original song.


Do you still possess
A resolve that made you whole
When I sculpted you
In the image of my soul?

Chiseled into being,
A monolith of monochrome,
A face in painted hues
Of the place that you call ‘home’.

When a kingdom crumbles all afloat
It plucks a calling from the throat,
Engulfed in thousand winters’ cold,
A legend, built to remain untold.

Your people’s names and their paradigm
Are being lost in the sands of time.
If we hope to reach for paradise
You must make the ultimate sacrifice.

It will take a fall to the sword to make
Someone else’s dream come true.
Will you freely give the life
That I’ve breathed into you?

Will you cast yourself a monster
To do what you must, and to deprive
The lesser men of heaven to keep
The Dream of Zeal alive?

Craters in your flesh, they hate you,
And no calluses will make you
Alabaster.

But no catastrophe can wilt you,
Which exactly why I built you
As your master.


 

Do you still possess
A resolve that made you whole
When I sculpted you
In the image of my soul?

Chiselled into being,
A monolith of monochrome,
A face in painted hues
Of the place that you call ‘home’.

As hell is turning colder,
It is on your rocky shoulder
That you cause the winds to petrify
And lift the kingdom to the sky.

If you fear your failure would mortify
You, then for your kingdom you must deny
The poets of tranquility
To walk along the shores of eternity.

The crimson drums resound for the one
Who stays behind to fight.
The righteous will be tested
Through the turbulence of might.

The Almighty is he
Who braves to kill at will or die.
Make me a little promise
You’ll never allow yourself to cry.

The language of crunching bone
Says the spirit in the hollow stone
Is not worth confronting.

You must be more than what you’ve been,
There are no veins under your skin!
You feel nothing.

Not grief, not pain,
Not guilt, disdain,
You feel nothing.

Not the pain to bleed it out
Not a shadow of the doubt,
Not the conscience of your kin,
Nor the pleading of your sin.

But a furious fist against the flood
That turns a hoard of heads to blood
That stains the gloves.

A fear that failure is unknown
Reveals the heart beneath the stone
And it loves.

It loves.


 

Do you still possess a fragment
Of the heart that made you whole
When I sculpted you
In the image of my soul?

I held you in my arms
When you were yet to grow your teeth.
And now your face is blurred in hues
Of the wounds of defeat.

A killshot arrow trapped in distortion,
You lose sight of your devotion,
Tide of footsteps seize your motion,
There’s no grace beneath erosion.

Heaven trembles, but you’re unshakeable!
Come the storm, you’re a wall, unbreakable!
Blood erupts right through, it’s traceable
To what you lose, it’s irreplaceable.

Purge yourself of this malady
That erodes your lust for victory
What’s the proof of gallantry if not war?

Clashing swords descend,
But death is not the end.
Go tell that to the heavens with a roar.

You’re a mortal barrier
With the spirit of a warrior,
So a kingdom stood.

You were born for a purpose
You live only for the service
Of the Greater Good!

Of the Greater Good.

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