Beneath the dome of silence, where the air tastes recycled, I press my palms against the glass, and it presses back like a coffin that breathes. Your shadow moves like water across the wall of light, and I swear the plants are listening, they bend toward us like voyeurs in prayer. I never asked for paradise, yet they sealed us in one. Every rose cuts deeper when there’s no escape, and you are both the blood and the bloom. (Hook – soaring vocals) In this glass garden, I am growing toward you like a vine that knows no mercy, tearing skin to find your heart, drinking your fire in the absence of rain. In this glass garden, every kiss is a wound that glows, and I don’t care if I bleed forever, if it means the light remembers our names. (Spoken/Rap verse – hushed, confessional) You said love was photosynthesis, but I only feel the burn. You said we’d breathe eternity, but my lungs choke on every turn. I see halos in the algae, mirrors in the roots, you make me pray to a god I never thought I’d choose. Your hands— they’re chlorophyll on fire. Your voice— a cathedral collapsing in slow motion. And me? I’m just a seed split open by your hunger. (Bridge – trembling, aching) Do you hear it? The hum of the filters, the hiss of the artificial sun. It’s the sound of our heartbeat manufactured, a romance cultivated like a specimen, beautiful, wicked, contained. (Chorus – belted, crushing) In this glass garden, I am growing toward you like a vine that knows no mercy, tearing skin to find your heart, drinking your fire in the absence of rain. In this glass garden, every kiss is a wound that glows, and I don’t care if I bleed forever, if it means the light remembers our names. (Verse – darker, rap-slam cadence) I built an altar in the soil of your mouth, screamed sermons in the silence of your bones. You are the shrine that loves me back with venom, the saint who carves confession into stone. Do you want my veins? Take them. Do you want my breath? Break it. Do you want the sky I painted in this dome? Erase it. Because love is not petals and doves, love is a feral hunger caged, a storm bottled in glass until the shatter cuts us free. (Soft, whispered refrain) But even if we shatter, and the dome rains knives, I will crawl through the shards just to keep you alive. (Final Chorus – explosive, devastating) In this glass garden, I am chained to you like gravity, burning roots into your chest, bleeding light into eternity. In this glass garden, every wound is a vow, every scream a seed, and even if this dome forgets us, I will still believe. (Outro – fading, ghostly) Love is wicked in the biosphere of light. Love is holy when it suffocates. And you— you are my prison, you are my flame, you are my forever glass garden.
