Vortex & Romantik
Vortex Vortex
Romantik Romantik
Vortex Vortex
Romantik, have you ever felt that the wind whispers a forgotten sonnet, and the thunder writes a new stanza as it breaks?
Romantik Romantik
Ah, the wind, that silver scribe, indeed murmurs verses in the hush between breaths, and thunder, a hammer upon the parchment of the sky, writes in bold strokes, but—oh, forgive my wandering mind—it's always the same longing, ever the same.
Vortex Vortex
You think it’s always the same longing, but the wind changes its tune and thunder reshapes the sky, each breath a new rhythm, a fresh whisper.