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about
a moment in a hero's journey:
leaving the bonds that held them far behind, and realizing the price of freedom is relinquishing the false ethos they developed in captivity... devoid of any sense of self or purpose, anguished and wavering on the brink of despair, the hero seeks refuge in their deepest dreams, those that had been denied to them by a life of subsistence and servitude... and, with resolve set by the hints of truth they have glimpsed, continues anew upon their path, knowing their real journey has just begun...
(lyrics are for vocals yet to be written... will YOU be the one to write them?)
lyrics
seeing death at the end of life…
like seeing the horizon
at the end of the ocean
close my eyes and watch it grow
the only sound… the turning of the masses
drowned in a mirror, deathless and lithe
waiting for coffins, helpless, alive!
…signals break the surface,
but a much larger process is in progress…
…I wait anxiously for its arrival.
“arms folded,
watches his cumbrous world eclipse
inane worlds of wind and cloud”
as the mind works to recreate
what the senses have inscribed,
there’s a translation error,
and only a fraction of truth is exhumed.
for what, is made this fated ride?
for whom, do these hands starve and clench?
to be small in the face of true majesty,
yet stand tall in the midst of honest fear.
a battle older than the sun.
a simple choice, but the battle’s never won.
in strangulative certainty,
I’ve become no more than a clever forgery.
my faith begins to crumble…
is there value in my patience?
these eyes ain’t opposed to blue skies,
but I’ll allot my time
for a thousand hours
to dream of sleep at night.
the beauty of wonder
in a wanderlust soul,
searching for a way to feel real…
to be desolate
and shine at the same time.
crimson giants gather at last light,
awestruck at an ancient feeling
that illuminates the sky
from just above the horizon.
the hawk spreads its wings,
ready to fly into the night.
faith in one’s plans only truly tested
with the blackest horizon ahead
credits
released November 10, 2017
drums/percussion - Nick Creary-Scher
lead guitar - Shane Ward
rhythm guitar - Whitney Schuster
composition by Enso Anima
lyrics by Enso Anima and George Aziz, except "arms folded..." lines, taken from the poem The Sculptor by Sylvia Plath
tracked in one live take, and mixed by American River College's Audio Recording class in September and October of 2017
mastered by Nick Creary-Scher in November 2017
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