🎵 Vault of the Marrow
Líricas:
A deep, serpentine drone swells in the darkness. The stone marks the time.
Bedrock rising, cold hum in the marrow. The weight of the world is in the vein. Solidifying the space between pulses, where the anchor holds the rain.
The signal cuts the skin, logic in the wire. A shiver on electric fire. We are the shimmer, the light in the loom, rising above the weight of the room. Dissolve the heavy into the air, a pattern of starlight everywhere.
The stone marks the time. The ghost in the chime, settled.
No comments:
Post a Comment