GİBİ

A flight into the sky with no guaranty of a soft landing. Chaos roars below, my head is buzzing with thoughts, and there's an eternal debate between the one who burns and the one who rises again from the ashes. Everything is like it's on fire: the days, the words, the attempts, even the belief that "everything will be fine." But between the lines, a smile flashes - so stubborn, as if saying, "Yes, I'm burning, but beautifully." The music flows smoothly, like breathing after a storm - a little raspy, but alive. There's no complaint in it, just tired acceptance and a touch of pride that despite all the ashes, there's still light within. Even if it's slightly melted.