Crown of Clay

Born where the black rain swallowed the sun;

Raised by the river where red waters run;

Mud on my armor, stone in my veins;

I learned how to march through thunder and pain;

No golden banner;

No kingdom to claim;

The earth keeps the scars of every fallen blade;

The stone speaks my name through the graves we made;

I watch from the ground when the battle horns call;

For the clay may be broken;

But I will not fall;

I am the memoria, forged in the flood;

Crowned by the ashes and covered in blood;

Strike me with iron,

I rise from the clay;

The ground is my shield and the storm is my way;

I am the memoria, kneel or give way;

Kings built their towers on bones and on lies;

I watched them tremble beneath burning skies;

Their silver battalions sank into the mire;

While I carried forward a fistful of fire;

Each step was a warning;

Each breath was a drum;

The earth keeps the scars of every fallen blade;

The stone speaks my name through the graves we make;

I rise from the ground when the battle horns call;

For clay may be broken, but

I will not fall;

I am the memorial fortune of flood;

Crowned by the ashes and covered in blood;

Strike me with fire and

I rise from the clay;

The ground is my shield and the stone is my way;

I am the mud warrior, kneel or give way;

Let the mountain shake beneath my roar;

Let the rivers break against the shore;

If I fall, let the soil take my hand;

I will rise as an army across the land;

From a thousand footprints, my legend will stand;

I am a warrior, forged in the flood;

In the flood, my ashes are covered in blood;

How much strength is left in me?

With iron, I rise from the lame;

The crown is my shield and the stone;

When the last wardrobe fades away;

You abide my crown beneath the cave;

Still I rise;

Still I remain;