Kanäle/World News/Winter of Reckoning

Winter of Reckoning

7:22

20. Februar 2026

Winter of Reckoning

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Winter of Reckoning

Verse 1

Blue lights at the palace gate on a birthday night, A younger brother to a crown in the camera’s white. They say in the envoy years, whispers crossed the sea, Confidential shadows, Epstein’s company. Released to a waiting world, the monarch kept it plain: Let the law be the law, and let it bear the name. A rare page in royal books turned under stormy skies, After a flood of files where buried truth now rises.

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Chorus

This is the winter of reckoning, the hush before the roar, Where secrets meet the daylight and justice tests the door. Hold tight to the tender things, to the children and the shore, May truth be loud as thunder, and mercy even more.

Verse 2

Across the desert water, metal gathers blue, Carriers and fighters, refuelers, submarines too. A deadline drawn in daylight, measured close to now, Talks set in Geneva, guiding words—but how? Tehran builds its shelter, ships drill in a strait, And weekend winds are whispering a strike could not wait. Between the brink and breathing, the gulf holds its breath, Where letters shape a future, or break it into death.

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Chorus

Verse 3

From a mountain made of paper, from tapes and broken frames, Came a call from quiet chambers that dared to speak the names. They said the stain was global, a trafficking of pain, Women, girls, and silenced worlds, a long and cruel chain. No wallet is a fortress, no title hides a flaw, The message from the watchers: none stands above the law. A trove became a lantern, a thousand roads of light, To find the ones who suffered, and bring them home to night.

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Epstein files: UN experts demand accountability

Chorus

Verse 4

In Seoul the gavel thundered where soldiers once were called, A leader faced the verdict for darkness draped as law. They wrote the word insurrection in letters deep and long, Life behind the iron for a power turned wrong. Generals and ministers counted out their years, The court refused the ending that history most fears. First time in a long time, a line was clearly drawn: No midnight march through parliament, no iron over dawn.

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Chorus

Verse 5

In a Los Angeles courtroom, a silicon suit took the stand, He said he steered the city with a careful, steady hand. They asked about the children, the filters, glowing skin, The youngest slipping past the gate, the lure to pull them in. Others took their bargains, two giants still remain, A wave of suits behind them, a question made of pain: If profit loves a habit, and eyes forget the day, Who pays the cost for childhood when design leads the way?

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Chorus

Verse 6

By the lake in Geneva, two armies set down words, Difficult and sober, with hope that barely stirred. Guns felt a little lighter, on maps the lines still bled, One side spoke of leaving, the other shook its head. A plant of quiet danger kept glowing in the dark, Territory and memory—too hot to hold or mark. But hands did not let go yet; another round will come, As an old invasion’s shadow ticks closer to the sun.

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Final Chorus

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