In sterquiliniis invenitur

Cutting through the stale fog
The tempest comes as I walk
From a great wind, the mute's curtain falls
Suddenly the voice of an avalanche calls

From the shade
A forming face roars
Pulling back four horses whipped to quarter
Channeling heart from a time before

Tyrant forced beyond their border
Beyond the walls built by bricks of order
Heeding not the wind nor hail
I cannot stay, I must go forward!

Humbled by primordial madness
Freed from a crushing stasis, the soul is now braver!