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“The first verse was a celebration of night--a ballad of dancing shadows and creeping mist and all the tiny, soothing shifts that let the world slip into restful slumber. But as the lyrics carried on, they curved to an ode to darkness itself. A reminder that there was purpose and power, even in the blackest places. Even to the shadows within herself. The anger. And doubts. And sadness. The memories that were too painful to replay. All rang with vulnerability and strength. And with each new beat--each new pulse--the monster changed shape. Until it wasn't a monster at all.” — Shannon Messenger
The first verse was a celebration of night--a ballad of dancing shadows and creeping mist and all the tiny, soothing shifts that let the world slip into restful slumber.
But as the lyrics carried on, they curved to an ode to darkness itself. A reminder that there was purpose and power, even in the blackest places. Even to the shadows within herself.
The anger.
And doubts.
And sadness.
The memories that were too painful to replay.
All rang with vulnerability and strength.
And with each new beat--each new pulse--the monster changed shape. Until it wasn't a monster at all.