The World We Leave Behind

Behold the Guardian's hands, the bronze and the scar
One side is ash, where we've pushed it too far
Iron cathedrals, a sky in decay
Where greed buried deep the light of the day

The hand that wounds is the hand that can heal
The breath of life, or the silence of steel?

Blood in the gears, the progress is poison
Building a tomb, in our small horizon
It is not the stars, nor a sign from the cross
But the human will, that dictates the loss

Lift your eyes to the bright horizon!
Where the waters flow pure, where the Sun is rising!
Between the wasteland and the garden of old
We are the echoes of the stories we've told!

The Guardian judges not, he only sustains
The weight of our glory, or the rust of our chains
One hand holds death, the other creation
The fate of the world, is your own revelation!

The green is dying! The fire is near!
But hope is the blade, that can conquer the fear!
The knot of time is starting to bind
Which of these worlds will you leave behind?

Lift your eyes to the bright horizon!
Where the waters flow pure, where the Sun is rising!
Between the wasteland and the garden of old
We are the echoes of the stories we've told!

Which world will you leave behind?
The choice is yours