(Intro) (Slow, echoing drum beat kicks in. The sound of a match striking. A long, deep exhale.) (Background chant: "Spiritus... Herba... Sanctus...") (Verse 1 - Spoken/Whispered) The ritual begins in silence. A velvet bud, emerald and weighted with frost. I feel the resistance... the stickiness of the earth’s sweat. Between my fingers, the alchemy of the flower. The aroma rises—pine, diesel, and ancient suns. (Chorus - Ethereal Singing) Break it down... piece by piece. The silver dust upon the green. Release the soul, the resin deep, The bridge between the wake and sleep. (Bridge - Gregorian Chant Style) Tricho-ma... Ter-pene... In-di-ca... (Verse 2 - Whispered) I lay the paper flat, a thin translucent shroud. The grind is perfect—coarse, yet soft as velvet. I roll the cylinder, a perfect architecture of peace. The flame touches the tip. A glow. A cherry. The first breath of the ghost. (Chorus - Ethereal Singing) Break it down... piece by piece. The silver dust upon the green. Release the soul, the resin deep, The bridge between the wake and sleep. (Outro) (A soaring pan flute solo begins) The walls are softening. Time is a heavy liquid. I am the smoke... and the smoke is me. (Fade out with the sound of wind and a final, distant "Spiritus...")
