[Verse 1— Clean, ambient guitar tone, driving bass line, synths]
The sun bleeds gold across a field I know too well,
A canvas painted in the hues where our story fell.
I see the ghost of your hand reaching, through petals of a shade
We swore the winter could not tarnish, the promises we made.
But memory is a cruel cartographer, drawing two maps in the mind:
One where the luminous clover grows, and one the dust has claimed to bind.
I walk the path of perennial bliss just to trace the fault-line,
Where parallel realities collide, yet never quite align.
[Pre-Chorus— drums become more present, melodic but strained vocals]
I'm standing at the threshold, where the vibrant light descends,
Knowing every blooming flower is a future that now ends.
The fragrance of this garden is a eulogy I breathe,
For the self I left behind inside the love I couldn't keep.
[Chorus— Full band, heavy but melodic; powerful vocals, soaring melody]
Oh, the symmetry of ash and bloom!
One world is bathed in light, one cloaked in tomb.
I wander through the monuments, where epitaphs are carved in stone,
While simultaneously crushing petals in a field where we are still alone.
This cognitive dissonance is the marrow in my bone,
To be in love and bereaved, in a mirror I can’t disown.
[Verse 2— Slightly heavier tone, more intricate]
The graveyard air is silent, heavy with the weight of time,
Each marker is a chapter, a perfect verse no longer rhymed.
The stones here are not granite, but the petrified remains of moments,
A taphonomy of tenderness, preserved in dark atonements.
I read the date of death: The Day We Stopped Forgetting Ourselves to Be.
It's the same soil that nourishes the lavender of your deceit, you see.
The wildflowers of the living garden are just spectral emanations,
Of the calcified root system beneath these tragic stations.
[Pre-Chorus— sense of urgency, growing distortion]
I'm standing at the precipice, where the illusion starts to fade,
Knowing every marble headstone is the price that had to be paid.
The silence in this cemetery is the final chord we struck,
For the self I watch decaying, now completely out of luck.
[Chorus — intense and desperate; powerful clean vocals]
Oh, the symmetry of ash and bloom!
One world is bathed in light, one cloaked in tomb.
I wander through the monuments, where epitaphs are carved in stone,
While simultaneously crushing petals in a field where we are still alone.
This cognitive dissonance is the marrow in my bone,
To be in love and bereaved, in a mirror I can’t disown.
[Breakdown— Drums drop to a half-time, deep, echoing thud, Bass becomes the primary instrument, massive, distorted, and subsonic, rhythmic pulsing]
[Screamed]
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I SEE US IN THE SOIL!
THE ROOTS ARE CHOKING OUT THE LIGHT!
THIS IS THE HUE OF RUST AND REGRET!
THIS IS THE PARALLEL HELL!
BURY ME IN THE LILIES!
[Refrain]
They say the dead return to nourish what still grows...
But all I am is a trespasser, moving between the loves I know
Atlantica
