submersion

a sense of being enveloped emotionally or spiritually, often used metaphorically in art and introspection

an evocative fusion of cinematic neo-classical strings, ambient electronics, and ambient electronic dance music (edm). a vibrant and danceable piece that conveys empowerment and determination. blending organic sounds with synthesized ones, creating new soundscapes that are both unsettling and empowering.

lyrics

“submersion” (part i: bathos)

[intro]
[whispered]
the clock forgot this place.
time pools in corners,
never draining.

[i]
in the hush between chimes,
i saw you —
a blur of wind
through glass
that never closed.

your name dissolved
on the edge of thought,
like breath fading
on cold panes.

[ii]
we built our days
from crumbling paper—
each fold
a promise not meant to hold.

i stitched the silence
to keep you near,
but threads unravel
faster
in dusk.

[iii (crescendo begins — orchestral bloom)]
what is memory
but a slow collapse?
rooms where laughter once
rattled the air
now echo
with the shape of gone.

[iv]
(tension swells then releases)
and still,
i wait beneath
the heavy sky
for a moment
that’s already left
but hasn’t yet arrived.

[v (final, suspended resolution)]
so come—
just once—
as a shadow
on the wall,
or the scent
of rain
that says:
you were here.
you were.

“submersion” (part ii: dissolution)

[intro]
[whispered]
the clock’s forgotten rhythm.
time pools in silence,
never to flow again.

[i]
in the stillness between breaths,
i saw you—
a whisper of wind
through broken glass,
unmended.
your name dissolved
in the warmth of fading thought,
like a sigh held
too long in winter air.

[ii]
we built our lives
from fraying threads,
each stitch
a promise too thin to keep.
i pulled at the seams,
tangled in the quiet,
but the fabric tore
too easily
as shadows lengthened.

[iii (crescendo begins — orchestral bloom)]
what is memory,
if not a crumbling bridge?
rooms once full of echoes
now suffocate
beneath the weight of what was.

[iv]
(tension swells then releases)
and still,
i wait beneath
a sky too heavy to hold,
for a moment
that’s already slipped away,
but lingers in the dark.

[v (final, suspended resolution)]
so come—
just once—
as a flicker
in the half-light,
or the taste of earth
just after rain,
whispering:
you were here.
you were.

“submersion” (part iii: beyond time, dimension)

[intro]
[whispered]
i am nothing,
yet i am everything.
the edges of space tremble,
but i do not touch them.

[i]
i exist
where no light has ever bent—
a breath that never inhaled,
a thought without a name.
i see shapes without borders,
colors that do not exist,
and the hum of silence
that speaks in tongues
i cannot understand.

[ii]
i am here,
but i do not know how,
floating within the pulse
of what cannot be grasped.
the threads of time unravel,
but they never touch me—
i am beyond the weft
and the weave of reality,
a witness to the unseen.

[iii (crescendo begins — orchestral bloom)]
what is this place,
if it is even a place at all?
a swirling mass of echoes,
a constant bloom of potential
that never reaches fruition.
i feel it,
but i cannot name it,
for naming would break it,
fragment it into something
i cannot hold.

[iv]
(tension swells then releases)
i try to understand,
but my senses fail me—
i am pulled into the tide
of an infinity
that has no beginning,
no end,
no reason to begin or end.
i see it all,
but i cannot speak it.

[v (final, suspended resolution)]
so come—
but not as you were,
for here,
in this place where nothing is real,
you are nothing and everything,
too.
i can only witness.
i can only report.
you were.
you were.

“submersion” (part iv: the void)

[intro]
[whispered]
who am i?
what was i before this?
the space around me,
empty,
the space within me,
forgotten.

[i]
i float—
but where am i?
what was the shape of my name?
it dissolves before i reach it,
like dust carried by winds
that i no longer feel.
the fragments of a past i don’t remember
slip through my hands,
a language i can no longer speak.

[ii]
i exist in the shadow of something lost,
but i don’t know what it was.
there were promises, once,
of warmth,
of connection,
but they fade as i drift,
untethered,
a whisper without voice
in an ocean without shore.

[iii (crescendo begins — orchestral bloom)]
what was i,
before i became this—
a flicker in a void?
there are no echoes here,
no history to shape me,
only the cold hum of nothing,
and the slow, unyielding pull
of a place that knows no time.

[iv]
(tension swells then releases)
i reach,
but there is nothing to touch.
i call,
but there is no sound to answer.
i am lost in a space
that stretches forever,
a body without form,
a soul without a past,
drifting—
perhaps endlessly.

[v (final, suspended resolution)]
so come—
but i do not know if you will.
i have forgotten who i was,
and i cannot remember what i seek.
in this place,
i am both lost and found,
but found by nothing.
i am not.
i’m not.

“submersion” (part v: return to self)

[intro]
[whispered]
i have been gone
so long
that even silence
forgot my name.
no ticking. no pulse.
only being.

[i]
i drifted beyond the last breath
of stars—
a thought unspoken
for eons, maybe longer.
there was no measure,
only the ache of remaining.
not alive.
not lost.
just—
here.

[ii]
then—
a point of light.
too faint to follow,
too soft to mean.
but it grew.
it grew,
until it filled everything,
wrapped me in warmth
that burned.

[iii (crescendo begins — orchestral bloom)]
colors bled through the white—
blues i had forgotten,
greens i never knew.
shapes bloomed from the blur,
the bones of a world
rising from vapor.
the sky stitched itself
from dreams
i didn’t remember dreaming.

[iv]
(tension swells then releases)
then i saw her—
a shadow at first,
a curve in the distance,
walking toward me
over the curve of that new world.
familiar.
unnervingly exact.
the same gait,
the same gravity.

[v (final, suspended resolution)]
now we stand
face to face—
not mirror,
but twin.
not past,
not future.
just
me.
and me.