Visions in the violet haze,
you and I on silver blades,
cut the night to let the starlight bleed.
Echoes of a distant choir
burn like frost upon the wire,
every note a secret we don’t need.
I can feel the future breathe
underneath your trembling sleeve—
hold the pulse, don’t wake me from the dream.
If we fade before the dawn,
let the skyline keep our song,
ghosts of love that shimmer in-between.