Hope for truth while warm blood still sings
Not when your bones wear funeral rings
Leap—leap now—into the fire of night
While the moon still casts your name in light

Salvation’s not for the tomb or bell
It blooms before the final knell
What you call grace, what you call breath
Belongs not to the arms of death

Break your ropes while your heart still aches
While your shadow flees & your body wakes
For after the veil, what hope remains?
Just wind in tombs & rusted chains

Do you think the ghosts will set you free
Those pale-white saints of apathy?
They whisper prayers through chattering teeth
But never cut the ropes beneath

So rise, while flesh & fear still cling
And taste the dark, kiss the sting
The truth is woven in wounds still warm
Not chiseled into marble form