.
Song Info
Track Files
MP3
MP3 7.9 MB • 320 kbps • 3:26
Lossless
WAV 52.5 MB
Meta Data
BPM
140
Key
A min
Vocals
Female
Story behind the song
Flowers of the earth, on that December morning, when she contemplated her reflection in the family-heirloom mirror. She noticed that her face had transformed into a map of absences. It wasn't just time that had sculpted her features, but also the shadows of a life slipping through her fingers like rainwater. A reflection lost in the dim light of the room (where time seemed to have forgotten to move forward). She, now a solitary figure, stood motionless before the mirror. The glass, covered in layers of dust, reflected only a vague outline, as if the image itself no longer belonged to the real world.
They returned with shopping bags in their hands. The other side of waiting, after the sight of those we love, secrets between one side of the world and the other, intensely, each remembered moment may be, as it truly is, the best one can recall of life.
Of life? Whatever that may be.
In the mirror of lost memories, in the cardboard box, in her hometown, everything now forgotten under layers of dust and solitude, she used to wake to the warmth of the sun caressing her face through the wooden windows. Breakfast smelled of jasmine, and the mornings were painted with hues of hope. But that was before the great darkness, before the sky became a perpetual gray curtain that swallowed not only the sun but also her most precious memories. She (or perhaps "the thing") stared fixedly at that distorted face, trying to find some trace of what once had been.
But she couldn't. The stain on the mirror was strange, unfamiliar. It was like looking at someone she had never known, someone who carried the marks of a worn-out soul, corroded by the weight of time and memories. The eyes were empty, like two dry lakes where dreams had once bloomed. They stared without seeing, searched without finding.
They then went to the cold side of the city, where they found the house of the plump lady and the family, and those who said, "Oh, mother! How to thank?" She who would also, for many years, be their family.
Now, it was six hundred and three years. She realized she carried within her chest a void as deep as the abyss separating her present from the luminous past. Her hands, once firm and decisive, trembled as they touched the mirror, as if trying to reach that distant version of herself who still smiled under the sun above her cardboard box.
Rooted in the visible world, the precise side of those we love, it may well be, and no more than that, the best of things (and naked truth, it can never be evil); living among people, in a little house specially built from disassembled and reassembled crates at the back of the house, which was also made of crates.
"Who are you?" she whispered, her hoarse voice cutting through the oppressive silence of the room.
Living in a cold world; it was good when the sun came to warm the icy walls.
Because there was the sun; as much as there are words that try to speak of the sun; there was even sun in people (that was still a time WHEN THERE WERE even people)!
But there was also the moon.
Countable on bare fingers; illuminating the longest icy night, while waiting for dawn and the family to come out of the house to see her, and she would be happy again.
Loneliness, her only faithful companion, whispered in her ear stories of a time that would never return. And there, before that mirror that reflected not only her image but also the fragments of her shattered soul, she understood that she had become a stranger in her own skin.
For, to smile joyfully, to truly live; the free street, small footprints on the blooming flowers, still feverish and full of colors, aware of what is absent, certain of uncertain steps, which never knew a single certainty, to know the entire crown of life and its living in a single glance.
No answer came. Only the echo of the question hung in the air, amplifying the loneliness that enveloped her like a heavy cloak. She knew there would be no....
Lyrics
I see a face reflected in the mirror,
A face I could never truly see.
Deep in my soul, the pain lingers,
Life cuts deep within my chest.
The past is all that remains,
And my future feels lost.
I'll never be the same.
I remember those years, long ago,
The place I once called home.
The world I knew,
It was sunlight warming my skin;
Now, I can't see it anymore,
Beneath a sky of relentless gray.
The sun has vanished,
And darkness has taken its place.
Will the sun ever rise again
In the blackness of my life?
I see a face reflected in the mirror,
A face I can no longer recognize.
