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Slavic Dawn

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/witchsvoice 🎵 Music on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/3YiaFsqrzL... Let us raise our voices, let the earth quake with fear. The Witch weaves shadows — enough of torment here. Let their bones molder in the chasms of Nav'. It's time for Slavs to wail before our folkies starve. In the chill of birch groves where spirits softly wail, the Witch’s chant unmasks what prideful ones conceal. Of those drowning souls in obsidian and greed, of those who soil their land for the iron crown they need. Of men who swear false with oath behind their breath, of kin who poison kin in the struggle for their breadth. Of souls sold to shadows, donned in prophets' guise, underneath a false sky where dark truths lie. The Witch curses — heed her fiery spate! Deceivers immolate — crimson rivers sate! Truth like thunder shatters their deceit, Slavic Kin — our dawn we greet! Beneath birch where blood mingles with the roots, Truth serpentines the land like a venomous noose. It whispers of souls lost to the void of night, swindling their own kinsfolk in vain delight. It speaks of mockers of poverty’s plight, devoured by insatiable longing despite. Of devourers of the meek for the glittering prize, though wealth is ample — they still fantasize. Words like drink the soul's very core, revealing lies — cursed runes they wore. It is the echo of Nav', a dirge of despair, your deeds inscribed — as night meets air. The Witch curses — heed her fiery spate! Deceivers immolate — crimson rivers sate! Truth like thunder shatters their deceit, Slavic Kin — our dawn we greet! This hymn of the tyrants who drain vitality, like strzygi in night's cloak dragging mortals heavily. Of how freedom's an illusion veiled by the night, for they are shadows — consuming light. Of hands ensanguined with innocence's tears, of eyes mocking torment, scorning fears. Of those who barter worth for iron masks, forsaking kin for the wealth that undeserves its task. This is not a dirge of phantoms — it's the wretched system's wane, cursed for its revelation, truth within its bane. Cast aside ears if purity is your desire, for silence is complicit, as intentions conspire. The Witch curses — heed her fiery spate! Deceivers immolate — crimson rivers sate! Truth like thunder shatters their deceit, Slavic Kin — our dawn we greet!" This track was created using an artificial intelligence (AI) tool to generate music and/or vocals. The voice heard in the recording is synthetic and does not belong to any real person or artist. All lyrics, concept, and final editing of the track were done by the creator of this channel. This track is not intended to imitate or impersonate any artist, vocalist, or band. Any similarities in sound or vocal timbre to existing artists are purely coincidental and unintentional. The purpose of this publication is to create and present original art using new technologies while fully respecting copyright and creative ethics.