© 2025 Irrelin. All rights reserved https://suno.com/@irrelin I. The Ice They said the ice broke, where we had crossed too soon. I said nothing. My hands were red, but it wasn’t blood — just cold. The village didn’t look at me. That was worse than hate. II. The River The river remembers, but it doesn’t hate. It carries our silence, and the weight of what we’ve made. III. The Wandering I left before the thaw. Winters stacked behind me. Worked the docks, the wars. Kept my hands busy — that’s how you stop your head from talking. Drank when the noise got quiet. Fought when the quiet got loud. IV. The River The river remembers, but it doesn’t hate. It carries our silence, and the weight of what we’ve made. V. The Return I saw the old man by the river. He said, “The land forgives slow — but only if you stay.” He left it there. The birch by the river still leans the way it did that night. I came back to listen. The wind still senses my name. VI. The Fire I built a fire where the ice broke. It didn’t warm me. It burned quiet. I didn’t run this time. Hands that broke now hold the flame. I was just a boy. But I broke what I couldn’t carry. Now I stay. Not for peace — for truth. VII. The River The river remembers, and it doesn’t hate. It carries what we were, and what we can’t erase. The river remembers. I breathe. And the river holds its breath.
