The City of Mourners, track #5 https://suno.com/playlist/4f8e4c40-f631-4ad5-9996-e217cb35fa75 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The city sleeps, a canvas bathed in gray, Its streets are veins that guide my prey. You walk ahead with her same grace, Another soul in her stolen face. Your hair, a crown of dripping gold, Your eyes, her questions left untold. You move through rain like it's your own, The storm your throne, the night your home. I chase you through alleys, mixing shades of haze, With palette knife and canvas, trap your fleeting gaze. But the image dissolves, a mirage in the mist, Each stroke that I offer, a fleeting, lost kiss. You twist and you turn, a shadow that redeems, A portrait forever unfinished, a haunting dream. Your voice cuts clean, like a blade through glass, A whisper shaped by every shadow you pass. Each word you speak, a perfect weight, Too close to hers, yet not her fate. I see her ghost in the tilt of your head, Her laughter blooms where your silence treads. But your hands, your hands—they burn through mine, An alchemy I can't define. I chase you through alleys, mixing shades of haze, With palette knife and canvas, trap your fleeting gaze. But the image dissolves, a mirage in the mist, Each stroke that I offer, a fleeting, lost kiss. You twist and you turn, a shadow that redeems, A portrait forever unfinished, a haunting dream. The canvas bleeds, your face won't hold, The lines collapse, the paint runs cold. Are you the muse I'm meant to claim, Or a body forged from grief and flame? "You chase the ashes of what is gone, You paint her ghost, but not my song. I am the flame, not just her shade, A different soul than she who fades." Then who are you, what do you mean? A vessel alive with her shadowed sheen? You wear her name without her sound, A stranger I cannot unbound. I chase you through alleys, mixing shades of haze, With palette knife and canvas, trap your fleeting gaze. But the image dissolves, a mirage in the mist, Each stroke that I offer, a fleeting, lost kiss. You twist and you turn, a shadow that redeems, A portrait forever unfinished, a haunting dream. The canvas folds, the sculptures fall, Each line I've drawn feels like a wall. You were here; I held your name, But your essence slips, your form won't stay. “I am not her ghost, not her empty role,” “I am my own canvas, my own untold soul.” Lyrics: Cheshirah
