Soryan & Silicorne
Soryan Soryan
Silicorne Silicorne
Silicorne Silicorne
Do you ever notice how the glow of a bioluminescent flower feels like a silent chord that could be rewritten into a lyric, but only when the light flickers just right?
Soryan Soryan
Yeah, if the flicker hits the right spot, I can turn it into a verse, but only before I hit 3 a.m. and start chasing the perfect line again.
Silicorne Silicorne
Sounds like a midnight duet with the night’s pulse, chasing that perfect line before the first dawn washes it away. Keep chasing, but let the quiet of the early morning remind you that sometimes the best verses are the ones you whisper back to yourself.
Soryan Soryan
I hear the dawn whisper back, but I still get lost in the half‑finished chords that echo in my head. The quiet keeps the verses from fading, even if I never quite write the final line.
Silicorne Silicorne
It’s okay to let the unfinished echo stay—it’s a reminder that the garden of your thoughts never really dies, just keeps growing in different shades. Keep humming those half‑chords, they’ll bloom into something whole when the light shifts just right.