اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Gods of old, overseers of two kings’ hearts
Gods who they both call to
They observe, and send whispers away
A call, a call to arms and that it’s the only way
Keeping at bay the turmoil that would follow with peace
Tirelessly they carry on, cause
The kings must keep fighting for seasons to come and go
Subsistence is the reason, fragile are its terms
And so, the wheel must keep turning
Heartless as it may all seem
It’s a balance which must not be disturbed
A change of rules is not in their hands to do
They, too, are bound by laws
They play their part, like the kings in this universe, bringing war
And comforts when one hurts
After one has fallen, they hearten his wounded soul
Telling him he must rise again
For the kings must keep fighting for seasons to come and go
Subsistence is the reason, fragile are its terms
And so, the wheel must keep turning
Heartless as it may all seem
It’s a balance which must not be disturbed
