As the Guardians came at the turn of each age,
Only the Chosen ones sat, upon the Last Stage.
Their thrones adorned, their heads held high,
They created a future, for others to find.
Each with a gift, each with a curse.
Each to their own, each universe.
Through trial and triumph they stood on their own,
But bonded by art, they upheld their own thrones.
Repeating the vision, maintaining their sight,
To protecting the illusion, they have sworn in their life.
Beautiful, thrilling, the fantasy is sweet
But a crack in the image could bring one to their knees.
The Chosen don't know, why it is them who sit here,
The desire inside them, is to destroy what they fear.
The desire to project, is in them from birth
The need to heal others, the need to heal the Earth.
Their houses cannot contain them, their spirits are so free
They want to magnify the light, to allow people to see.
Our love is what they crave, our hearts are their prize
Our fuel is their fire, we strengthen our ties.
Their names are of Fame, the seen and unseen,
They all lead the Kingdom, they are the Kings and the Queens.
Their reputations proceed them, their lives mixed with myth
They live to succeed, they live to exist.
But what happens when, cracks appear in the lense?
What happens when they are tortured, questioned and condemned?
What happens when we exploit them, and love them a bit less?
When we choose the innocent one, and stone him to death?
What happens when the lies, and the liars obssess?
When some think the position is there to possess?
Our love it can rescue, our love can ressurect
But in times of confusion, it can be easy to forget.
So when the evil is attacking,
When the Kings and Queens are alone,
Who is protecting THEM?
Who is watching the Throne?
__________
Only the Chosen ones sat, upon the Last Stage.
Their thrones adorned, their heads held high,
They created a future, for others to find.
Each with a gift, each with a curse.
Each to their own, each universe.
Through trial and triumph they stood on their own,
But bonded by art, they upheld their own thrones.
Repeating the vision, maintaining their sight,
To protecting the illusion, they have sworn in their life.
Beautiful, thrilling, the fantasy is sweet
But a crack in the image could bring one to their knees.
The Chosen don't know, why it is them who sit here,
The desire inside them, is to destroy what they fear.
The desire to project, is in them from birth
The need to heal others, the need to heal the Earth.
Their houses cannot contain them, their spirits are so free
They want to magnify the light, to allow people to see.
Our love is what they crave, our hearts are their prize
Our fuel is their fire, we strengthen our ties.
Their names are of Fame, the seen and unseen,
They all lead the Kingdom, they are the Kings and the Queens.
Their reputations proceed them, their lives mixed with myth
They live to succeed, they live to exist.
But what happens when, cracks appear in the lense?
What happens when they are tortured, questioned and condemned?
What happens when we exploit them, and love them a bit less?
When we choose the innocent one, and stone him to death?
What happens when the lies, and the liars obssess?
When some think the position is there to possess?
Our love it can rescue, our love can ressurect
But in times of confusion, it can be easy to forget.
So when the evil is attacking,
When the Kings and Queens are alone,
Who is protecting THEM?
Who is watching the Throne?
__________
