鐵王座懸于虛空

荊棘纏繞著無聲的權(quán)謀

鼓點如心跳 叩問深淵

誰在暗影中執(zhí)掌天平

弦樂起時 城池傾覆又重建

銅管撕裂云層 宣告黎明

沒有審判 無需證言

這交響本身即是裁決

當(dāng)最后一個音符懸停于劍鋒

王冠落地 回聲成王

深紅王座在紫霧中升起，

鍍金面具在靜默中微笑；

風(fēng)鈴般的謊言隨風(fēng)旋轉(zhuǎn)，

黑玫瑰在廣場中央燃燒。

時間披上劊子手的披風(fēng)，

將歡笑與恐懼縫成一面旗幟；

我們起舞，在破碎的鏡面，

向看不見的王低頭——

血月降下鐵冠，

誰的名字在鐘聲里碎裂？

In the court where the crimson shadows bleed,

Scepters crack beneath the weight of dreams,

Twelve moons weep on a rusted throne—

Laughing, the jester wears the crown of bones.

Trumpets cry through shattered skies,

Heralds of silence where the future dies.

We dance on the ashes of yesterday’s king,

While petals fall like forgotten sins.

In the court where the crimson banners bleed,

Sad-eyed monarch dreams on a rusted throne—

Storm-cloud fiddlers sawing moonlight into chains,

Laughter of jesters drips like mercury rain.

Butterflies with blades for wings circle the crown,

Whispering histories that crumble to sound.

I kneel, tasting iron in the hymn of the damned;

The king lifts a hollow scepter, and the sky disbands.

We vanish inside the scarlet madrigal,

Echoes of forever etched in a falling skull.