We Still Breathe | (Epic Resistance Anthem)

Fire sleeps under our skin.

Cities breathe through metal lungs.

Every streetlight hums the same word: enough.

The sky isn’t crying. It’s warning.

We built comfort out of cages and called it tomorrow.

We gave the wind a barcode.

The rivers wear armor now; they can’t feel the moon.

Children learn smoke before language.

Our footprints steam where oceans used to sleep.

Yet under the rubble, something still drums.

Something still believes in breath.

You can’t own the air.

You can only choke on it.

WE STILL BREATHE. Not by grace - by will.

Not for hope - for proof.

Every inhale a weapon. Every heartbeat a flag.

I saw ice melt like language forgotten. I saw trees turn their backs on rain.

We worship screens that show us our own drowning.

Leaders light candles made of oil and call it prayer.

But the soil keeps whispering names we buried for convenience.

It remembers what clean felt like. It remembers us.

The ground isn’t weak. It’s waiting for us to stop lying.

WE STILL BREATHE.

Through smoke, through sirens, through shame.

WE STILL BREATHE.

The planet has lungs - they sound like drums.

You can break law. You can’t break rhythm. You can bury truth. It grows teeth.

You can burn forests. They learn to sing in ash. You can poison the future. It still rains.

WE STILL BREATHE - louder than profit, WE STILL BREATHE - longer than empire.

Air is older than power. Fire is younger than faith.

And we - we are both.