Thornvox & TessaFox
Thornvox Thornvox
TessaFox TessaFox
Thornvox Thornvox
I was standing in the ruins of an old amphitheater, and the wind played the broken strings of a battered harp, it’s a symphony of decay, don’t you think?
TessaFox TessaFox
Yes, the wind sings a lonely lullaby over crumbling stones, and the silence listens back, almost like a secret between old walls.