Assassin & IvyStone
Assassin Assassin
IvyStone IvyStone
IvyStone IvyStone
Do you ever notice how the quiet of a shadowed alley can feel almost like a poem—soft, unseen, but full of quiet purpose?
Assassin Assassin
I find that silence has its own rhythm, a quiet rhythm that guides my steps.
IvyStone IvyStone
That hush feels like a gentle heartbeat, almost like a quiet poem that keeps your feet moving.
Assassin Assassin
It’s a rhythm you can feel, not hear. The city breathes in that hush, and I just follow.
IvyStone IvyStone
The city’s breath is a soft pulse, almost like a sigh, and I just let it carry me.
Assassin Assassin
It’s the same pulse I listen for, just a different beat.