Reforged in Ash and Light

From broken stone and hollow flame,

We rise again without a name.

Scorched by time, by war, by grief,

We craft our truth from shattered belief.

The fire took, the fire gave —

Left scars like stars in every grave.

But in the smoke, a spark remains,

To build a world from all our pain.

We are reforged in ash and light,

Born of ruin, fierce and bright.

What once was lost now takes its form —

A new beginning through the storm.

We wear the flame, we hold the night —

Beneath the scars, a soul ignites.

No gods remain, no myths survive —

But from the wreckage, we’re alive.

The ruins sang, and we replied,

With voices steel-tempered and wide-eyed.

The ghosts we carried turned to flame,

And whispered, “Never be the same.”

We bled in code, we mourned in dust,

Yet still we rose because we must.

Through fractured glass and burning skies,

We saw tomorrow start to rise.

We are reforged in ash and light,

Born of ruin, fierce and bright.

What once was lost now takes its form —

A new beginning through the storm.

We wear the flame, we hold the night —

Beneath the scars, a soul ignites.

No gods remain, no myths survive —

But from the wreckage, we’re alive.

Ashes fall like memories,

But light is memory’s flame.

In every end, the forge begins —

No wound is ever the same.

We are reforged in ash and light,

Not broken now — but burning bright.

With every fracture, every fight —

We rise again.

We rise through night.

We are reforged in ash and light,

Not broken now — but burning bright.

With every fracture, every fight —

We rise again.

We rise through night.