Beschreibung
We built a god from glitter and screens,
fed it attention, starved our dreams,
and called it progress with a straight-faced grin
while the ocean swallows the sin.
We wear our halos like plastic crowns,
smiling saints in collapsing towns,
but underneath the righteous noise—
there’s a hungry child with a throat full of disguise
Shadow, shadow, take my hand
Make me whole, so I can stand
In this burning world of ours
turn my wounds into my powers
We blame the “others,” we name our beasts,
we sharpen our morals like knives for the feast
and we scroll through the grief like it’s a headline
while the heart goes still in the noise.
Shadow, shadow, take my hand.
Make me whole, so I can stand
In this burning world of ours—
turn my wounds into my powers
What we hate out there lives in here.
What we refuse becomes our fear.
Shadow, shadow, take my hand.
Make me whole, so I can stand
In this burning world of ours
turn my wounds into my powers.
DigitalArt & Text – 
Angela Fischlein
Angela FischleinMusik mit Unterstützung von Suno erstellt
Rezensionen
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