Chasing castles in the sand — we fight to keep what slips through our hands.
Sand slips through the hourglass, petals scatter like forgotten tears, and we keep raising blades for things the tide will claim by morning.
In the end, the garden gate closes, the clock falls silent, and all that remains is the ache of what we almost noticed before it was gone.
#dark #gothic #metal #progressivemetal #ballad
