We lit a fire to hold back night,
Forged a crown from fear and need,
It kept us warm, it gave us light,
Taught the dark to bleed.
But every wall we raised in flame
Cast a longer shadow still,
We named it hope, we named it fate,
And never asked what it would kill.
What saves one age dooms the next,
The cure becomes the blade,
Every vow we carved in stone
Turns brittle with the age.
We crowned our answers as gods and law,
Then knelt to what we made—
What saves one age dooms the next,
And calls it legacy.
The children walk on sacred ground,
Built from bones they never knew,
They inherit thrones and broken crowns,
And debts we swore were through.
If we could hear tomorrow scream
Through the cracks of history,
Would we still strike the final seal,
Or choose a slower honesty?
What saves one age dooms the next,
The shield becomes the snare,
Salvation wears a different face
To those who weren’t there.
So let the record bear this truth,
Before the cycle is complete—
What saves one age dooms the next,
And the bill comes due in blood and time.
