Iron Palm (Progressive Metal)

#progressivemetal

Through silent storms, my hands do bleed,
On stones of time, they plant the seed.
Each strike, a whisper, each bruise, a vow,
The flesh may falter, but the soul knows how.

The iron bends, the will stands tall,
A dance with pain, to conquer all.
In shattered echoes, strength takes form,
Through fire’s grace, the palm stays warm.

Beneath the surface, the fractures hum,
A symphony of what’s yet to come.
The skin may crack, the bones may strain,
But purpose rises above the pain.

Each blow a question, each bruise a prayer,
Who am I when the weight lays bare?
A mortal frame, yet forged in fire,
A fleeting breath, but boundless desire.

The stone remembers, the dust takes flight,
A witness to the endless fight.
Not mere destruction, but creation’s call,
To break the limits, to feel it all.

Beyond the hand, beyond the flesh,
A timeless truth begins to mesh.
The palm extends, the mind expands,
Through breaking stones, I understand.

In stillness lies the fiercest flame,
In silence, echoes speak my name.
For power is not in the strike alone,
But in the peace where strength is sown.

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"True strength is not in the hand that breaks the stone, but in the spirit that dares to strike."

suno.com