Song of the Old Phantoms

The Court of Kings in withered state, Drowning down in the voices made― By people, let them burn and hate― To take in the deathly shade; And from the corners take the pleas, Then let the phantom silence seize! O Golden statue of high pride, Look at your throne with locust rot, Take in all that tumultuous stride, And come to see what Death has brought, In your moment do as you please, And then will phatoms silence seize! Tell me now where your kingdom lies, Your frozen tongue can no more talk, Who shall you love and who despise? Where shall you go when people mock, Within your land, down on your knees, Look high and then we silence seize!