The Vandal’s Reckoning

When the storm’s violence finally quieted, the world stood changed. The sky dimmed. The roads cracked. The familiar became strange.

And in the stillness, the one who had walked through the storm found themselves face to face with what remained.

Reckoning is not a punishment - it is a mirror, and the mirror had turned violet.

Lyrics

The mirror bends, the light is thin,
A bruised horizon settles in.
What once was named now drifts, reframed,
Soaked in loss and out of phase.

Every mark I tried to hide
Still breathes beneath the violet sky.

A violet ache on borrowed time
Memories forged that won't align
Not a gift, not something owned,
Just weight I've learned to hold.

The vandal’s hand is almost clean,
Only traces where it’s been.
A fading heat, a fractured sign,
Something different left behind.

A violet ache on borrowed time
Memories forged that won't align
Only breath and what remains,
Only echoes learning names.

No return, no perfect frame,
No undoing what was changed.
Just this moment, loosely held
Borrowed time, under its spell