album cover
The Fallen Throne
4
Metal
The Fallen Throne was released on January 12, 2026 by Eklipse as a part of the album Introspection
album cover
Release DateJanuary 12, 2026
LabelEklipse
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Eklipse
Eklipse
Guitar
Felipe Andreoli
Felipe Andreoli
Bass Guitar
SIMONE PAGA
SIMONE PAGA
Vocals
Maria Ilmoniemi
Maria Ilmoniemi
Keyboards
Alberto Iezzi
Alberto Iezzi
Drums
Milan Polak
Milan Polak
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Travani Filippo
Travani Filippo
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Eklipse
Eklipse
Producer
Jens Bogren
Jens Bogren
Mastering Engineer, Mixing Engineer
Travis Smith
Travis Smith
Graphic Design

Lyrics

Remembering the light of a thousand good, 
Onesshines like a beacon.
Now I see it from here as a forgotten candle.
Was the meaning, our meaning, deepened?
Now my gifts to all strangle, hope we earned,
And work eaten by our grandsons' hunger. 
 
Below the throne of pride,
Staring weakened beings living;
The consequences of choices glide,
Cruel reign, unforgiving.
Daring others speak sincere,
What was created gives people the right
To choose to unleash fear
Or invoke courage from blight.
 
As I walk in utter nightmare,
It doesn't matter if my bones are what will remain.
I'm going to wait for the enlightener,
Or I’ll stand against the grain.
 
My willpower,
Its creations,
The pride, my tired mind enjoys,
As the years turn into hours,
As the dust turns into flowers.
Lead the men into the night,
Bring the stars into the fight.
The heritage of men lies
Inside their sons’ own device.
THE FALLEN THRONE IS MINE.
 
It's a simple matter of thought,
It's a name heading the history.
Calms the very soul, so fraught,
Knowing that virtue 
Was no mystery.
 
Prosperity’s aura will mark the walk,
Shines but obfuscated by modesty.
The same envy by which I am stalked,
The folded flag of the enemy.
 
A similar feeling feeds the psyche,
Not the body nor even his mask.
As time consumed what was the might,
To pour the water till the last drop.
 
And what's left is just a halo,
Sundial for a ghostly monolith.
As the years turn into hours,
As the dust turns into flowers.
Flowers.
Written by: Filippo Travani
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out􀆄 copy􀐅􀋲

Loading...