Oh what spectacle of visage rendered bare before the world to suffer silent ignominious glare.
On bended knee in humbled show, head and heart abashed, by how the mighty have been rendered low
Evanesced venerated glories past, faded long ago. In chattel'd bondage to indignations, rending soul and bone. The once reverent, now lie ‘neath heel and stone.
The once mighty have been rendered low. Made so by inglourious traitorous deeds, self inflicted upon thine sacred creed. Fervent in the certitude, we reap that in which we sow.
O' how the mighty have been rendered low.
In the gloaming remnants of times yet passed, from 'neath shadows aspersions cast. Onerous uncertainties yet persist, can redemptive solace still exist?
To rise once more to heights astounding, after a fall so resounding. I implore it granted so.
For this is how the mighty have been rendered low.