Waves Do Roar
from The Mothman by Thiago Desant
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lyrics
Within, the tumultuous waves do roar,
In my mind, insist that I am an astronaut.
Hypersonic, astronomic flight,
A swift life met its fate.
Omnipresent, the heavens in hues of black and blue,
Yet adorned with shades of pink, purple, and gold.
Vaporous water phantoms drift,
At sunrise's glow, the fire of a new day's birth,
In the nascent dawn, a combustion of hope engirth.
Yet, for me, no hope dost gleam.
A gleaming orb emerged before my craft,
Too fast to alter course,
I met it in a clash,
My spacecraft and I transmuted,
Into a fiery cascade.
My vessel's now smoke and molten metal,
Yet I feel the ground beneath my feet.
I know I'm not alive,
Yet somehow, still living.
Defined by the ghosts of repetition,
Memories anchor me persisting.
She lingers ever in my musings.
Imagination, the creative pyre,
Put you into my arms,
Embraced with love and desire.
Mine realm is one of ceaseless fluttering of tiny wings,
Encompassed by constant, minuscule zephyrs, a life granulated.
Consumed by the allure of luminance,
Cocoons and caterpillars, poised to stir at my behest,
What have I become, a vessel for the night?
A shadowed figure, veiled in flying insects' flight.
My skin and muscles, undulating and loose,
Are not my own, yet they enact my bidding,
A puppetry of sinews, a form unwritten.
Amidst this dance, a spectral sight unfurls,
A swarm of moths, shaped like a man, in twirls.
In shadows deep, where starlight's tender gleam,
A man of moths, his essence like a dream.
When words come and go inside his ghostly head,
Echoes, tales of the past are tread.
In my mind, insist that I am an astronaut.
Hypersonic, astronomic flight,
A swift life met its fate.
Omnipresent, the heavens in hues of black and blue,
Yet adorned with shades of pink, purple, and gold.
Vaporous water phantoms drift,
At sunrise's glow, the fire of a new day's birth,
In the nascent dawn, a combustion of hope engirth.
Yet, for me, no hope dost gleam.
A gleaming orb emerged before my craft,
Too fast to alter course,
I met it in a clash,
My spacecraft and I transmuted,
Into a fiery cascade.
My vessel's now smoke and molten metal,
Yet I feel the ground beneath my feet.
I know I'm not alive,
Yet somehow, still living.
Defined by the ghosts of repetition,
Memories anchor me persisting.
She lingers ever in my musings.
Imagination, the creative pyre,
Put you into my arms,
Embraced with love and desire.
Mine realm is one of ceaseless fluttering of tiny wings,
Encompassed by constant, minuscule zephyrs, a life granulated.
Consumed by the allure of luminance,
Cocoons and caterpillars, poised to stir at my behest,
What have I become, a vessel for the night?
A shadowed figure, veiled in flying insects' flight.
My skin and muscles, undulating and loose,
Are not my own, yet they enact my bidding,
A puppetry of sinews, a form unwritten.
Amidst this dance, a spectral sight unfurls,
A swarm of moths, shaped like a man, in twirls.
In shadows deep, where starlight's tender gleam,
A man of moths, his essence like a dream.
When words come and go inside his ghostly head,
Echoes, tales of the past are tread.
credits
from The Mothman,
released January 3, 2024
license
all rights reserved
tags
about
Phantoms Vs Fire Brazil
composer. sound artist. made of sound. silence. and flashing lights.
“We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.”
― Anaïs Nin
discography
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Apr 2024 -
Mar 2024 -
Jun 2023 -
Dec 2023
contact / help
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