Ô Tyranny! Abhorred your not so distant shores
Always expanding like the flower of blood
That expands through the injury of a Fallen

Gaining land on our salted sea of Freedom
Dried up by the forever lasting star of Evil.

And as the water dries, only remains the salt - eternal ore for our extinguished dreams.

Yet a proverb spreads
There would be a water that never dries

An acidic water, unpleasant and hard to drink
But from which only we can now get our salvation
For it corrodes Tyranny too.