Samsaran Urge

[Grave: sustained low drone; faint static crackles, as if something breathing] The wheel doesn’t stop. There’s no silence here. Only the sound of a body breaking itself because it forgot how to hold still. A step forward is a step backward is the only step you’ll ever take. [Crescendo: distortion hums, layers of percussion pull the tempo tighter] This isn’t a dance. It’s inertia dressed in rhythm. A machine doesn’t care what it devours. It only wants to move. It only knows how to move. [Spoken Interlude: violins in dissonance, words stutter and stretch] Someone once said, “if it hurts, let go.” But how do you let go of your own spine? You can’t undo gravity, no matter how hard you scream. *"Keep going,"* the voice whispers— but the voice isn’t yours. [Allegro: fragmented melodies; percussion erupts in chaotic syncopation] The wheel tightens. Every breath feels like stolen time. Metal on bone, skin on skin, but there’s nothing left to grind down. And yet— it spins faster. [Morendo: dissonance fades to silence, whispers crumble into the void] Not even the silence belongs to you. There’s no finish line. The music doesn’t end. You’re still moving, even when the wheel is gone.