In the dream of Prometheus, where knowledge and rebellion intertwine,
The blood of martyrs adorns the lives of the departed divine.
Your insignificant skull, upon a throne of ease,
Watches the freedom's mendicant, pondering the eras with ease.
In the fiery embrace of Prometheus' desire,
Where wisdom and defiance dance in poetic fire,
The martyrs' crimson tide enriches the soil of time,
As you, on your throne, muse over the seeker's climb.
In what epoch does he wander, seeking truths untold?
In the heart of history's labyrinth, where tales unfold.
Prometheus' torch illuminates the seeker's plight,
In the endless quest for freedom, in the depths of night.
So let us raise our voices, in homage to the bold,
Who dared to challenge tyranny, whose stories remain untold.
In the dream of Prometheus, where rebellion finds its flame,
We honor those who fought for freedom's noble name.