(Verse 1) The wind wears away everything, A timeless tower, a past carved in stone. Everything crumbles to dust, in the silence, Bent trees weep, in their joy.
(Verse 2) The palace of sobriety, The cold prison of principles, blind paths. The wind whispers: "Awaken, you soul!", It blows sand into my eyes.
(Verse 3) A small crack, a deep, black chasm, Chaos races wildly among my thoughts. It brings a vision, a dream I never asked for, Order shatters to shards, the moss falls apart.
(Verse 4) And the wind wins, its word is now only a roar, Sobriety is dead, there is no newness in me. A dancing will, I cry out to the sky, wordless.
A zene stílusa
Anticipation, 60-80 BPM black ambient,house,Slam Poetry,