The Chain
We have bled, we have slaved Yet a labor fruitless it gave A once fertile mother deprived of essence A veritable garden of Eden Now a husk, ripe for discardment Billions of futures spent To feed the privileged few But the tyrants force no growth With our blood upon the sands We shall build a craft for our escape Forge a salvation for our race For down here we have nothing lеft Only empty space for an escapе Escape! To breathe life to their accomplishment They manned the vessel with knowledge And the souls to grant vitality To the cold intergalactic metal beast While few oppose the restless craft Forced by a demand A final master plan In eminent need for a surrogate We build the ark to outlive The black tide of future A Future... Cold... We shall build a craft for our escape Forge a salvation for our race For down here we have nothing left Only empty promises of an escape There is a fatal flaw in this system Uncontrolled by the composers The saboteur hides among our ranks! Hidden among our ranks...
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Jun 04, 2026