A glimpse of history

[Verse 1]
They marched through the snow, driven by the cold wind,
Hands cracked and bleeding, sleepless nights in their eyes pinned.
Falling to dust at dawn, but rising to the light,
To build us cities from clay and stone, from fight.

They swallowed hunger with hope, asking no questions,
Riding their horses through centuries covered in ashes.
Their paths led through blood, through pain, through tears,
So tomorrow could begin for us, free of fears.

[Chorus]
They built the world from deserted, burnt-out walls,
Raised homes from rubble, from wounds in silent halls.
Gave warmth even to those who left only a shade,
So we could live in lights, not a dim war blaze.

But sated by the light, we forget why it burns,
Trading it for gold, forgetting what took years to earn.
We don’t value the work that whispers from the earth deep,
And walk in their steps, unaware of the cost they keep.

[Verse 2]
We live among the light won through centuries of pain,
In houses where warmth isn’t a gift, but always remained.
We measure success as others’, gauging it in gold,
And greed, like a shadow, turns us into enemies, cold.

We throw words that cut sharper than steel,
We break bridges that stood in the sun for real.
In glass displays, freedom is traded by our hands,
While a different winter slowly grows in our lands.

[Chorus]
They built the world from deserted, burnt-out walls,
Raised homes from rubble, from wounds in silent halls.
Gave warmth even to those who left only a shade,
So we could live in lights, not a dim war blaze.

But sated by the light, we forget why it burns,
Trading it for gold, forgetting what took years to earn.
We don’t value the work that whispers from the earth deep,
And walk in their steps, unaware of the cost they keep.

[Verse 3]
We stand at the ruins that once shone like a banner,
Taking stones in our hands, to rebuild floor by floor.
But we know — a century will pass, others will crush our labor,
Repeating our path, just like we did before.

We lay bricks like prayers, in the foundation of sunset,
Hoping the grandchildren won’t throw them into the abyss of time.
But history writes in circles, refusing collapse,
And we enter that circle, the only horizon we grasp.

[Chorus]
They built the world from deserted, burnt-out walls,
Raised homes from rubble, from wounds in silent halls.
Gave warmth even to those who left only a shade,
So we could live in lights, not a dim war blaze.

But sated by the light, we forget why it burns,
Trading it for gold, forgetting what took years to earn.
We don’t value the work that whispers from the earth deep,
And walk in their steps, unaware of the cost they keep.

[Bridge]
It’s a circle that spins slowly, merciless and tight,
Where yesterday’s dawn becomes a new sunset’s light.
And for every “tomorrow” we pay with shattered gardens,
That once bloomed in the hands of those who can’t return them.

We trade centuries like coins on desert wind,
But the pattern remains — destroy, build, repeat again.
And while we walk this path, long sunk in time,
We cannot understand how to continue the climb.

[Final Chorus]
They built the world from deserted, burnt-out walls,
But will we have the strength to break free from this loop?
May descendants not know what it means to lose the beauty of villages,
And not see pride traded for gold, poison, and gifts.

We are responsible for the light burning in our clenched hands,
For the roads that tomorrow may begin without pain or dark.
Perhaps it’s time to break this circle and remain in the ages,
Without destroying what they dreamed to build.