FallenSky & NovaTide
Do you ever listen to the sea’s rhythm and let it shape the next piece you write?
I do. The sea is a quiet pulse, a slow drumbeat that lingers in my head until the next lyric or chord feels right. The waves remind me that rhythm can be both gentle and fierce, and I let that echo shape my song.
It’s amazing how the sea’s cadence can anchor a song, like a steady tide pulling in the rawest feelings and letting them settle before they surf out again.
It’s the tide’s quiet promise that keeps me grounded, a steady hand pulling my thoughts into verse before they crash onto the shore.
I hear that—the tide’s pull is a quiet anchor, like a steady metronome for the mind. It’s reassuring, even when the world moves too slowly.
I let that steady pulse sit in the corners of my mind, like a soft metronome that keeps my heart beating even when everything else feels flat. It’s that calm gravity that lets me find new angles to the old song.