A heartfelt song of heartbreak and lost love. Performed live at The Oxford Poetry Circle on 30.10.24, the song explores what happens when two people in love grow apart and change as individuals - sometimes irreversibly

Forever And A Day (Live) - John Goldrust

Atardecer en la Arena

Dangers in the Mind

drachen

Jeremias Langsämmer – As The Light Dims Slowly
A piano-led meditation unfolding at an adagio pace, As The Light Dims Slowly channels the hesitant phrasing of Erik Satie. Cello, violin, and soft strings offer gentle support, moving in and out of the piano's uncertain light. Sparse and reflective, the piece lingers in moments of pause as much as in sound, capturing the hush of evening as it slowly gives way to night.

Cover photography by Fraser Cormack. Find more of his work at https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61559043332127

As The Light Dims Slowly

Translation belove 

Paroles et chant de Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel
Musique de Myckaël Marcovic
Illustration d'Annie Madec

Amour et mort et fleurs fanées

Dans le jardin où dort l’absence
J’ai vu ton ombre au pied des lys
Là où le vent chante en silence
Vers oubliés de nos prémices

Refrain :
Amour et mort et fleurs fanées
Du Baudelaire dans les allées
Et sous les roses empoisonnées
Nos âmes se sont embrasées
Nos âmes se sont embrassées

Des spleens perdus dans le mystère
Ton regard avait ce parfum
Puis, s’effaçant dans la poussière 
Ton cœur battait jusqu’au matin.
(refrain)

Quand l’âme rend sa révérence
À vouloir mourir de beauté
Entre un baiser et un silence
Que ce soit sous un ciel d’été

Refrain :
Amour et mort et fleurs fanées
Un vieux poème abandonné
Et sur ta tombe imaginée
Un (grand) bouquet de vérité

Lyrics and vocals by Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel
Music by Myckaël Marcovic
Illustration by Annie Madec

Love and death and faded flower

In the garden where absence sleeps
I saw your shadow at the foot of the lilies
Where the wind sings in silence
Forgotten verses of our beginnings

Chorus:
Love and death and faded flowers
Some Baudelaire in the paths
And under the poisoned roses
Our souls were set ablaze
Our souls embraced

Spleens lost in mystery
Your gaze had this perfume
Then, fading into the dust
Your heart beat until morning.
(chorus)

When the soul gives up its reverence
Wanting to die of beauty
Between a kiss and a silence
Let it be under a summer sky

Chorus:
Love and death and faded flowers
An old abandoned poem
And on your imagined grave
A large bouquet of truth

Amour et mort et fleurs fanées (Jean-Paul Gaido-Daniel / Myckaël Marcovic)

I'm told it's brilliant
Layers, motifs, counterpoint
A little bit of Latin in the second verse
Very... "award season"
I hate myself in high fidelity
But it sounds profound, doesn't it?

Painted in silence, a canvas of doubt
I sculpted the shadows the critics write about
My heart was a rumor I never could prove
But the rhyme-scheme's elegant, the modulations move

Ars gratia artis, but what is a self?
A mirror I sing to, with nobody else

You said, "This line's genius, it's post-modern pain"
But I wrote it drunk on a Tuesday, for fame
Every metaphor's hollow, but wears a disguise
A top hat of trauma, a monocle of lies

Tell me it's timeless, tell me it slaps
I looped the cello 'til I collapsed
I hated the bridge, but you called it sublime
So I added a reprise-well, five times

Am I a fraud if the work is good?
If it makes a woman cry in Amsterdam
and a reviewer use the word "visceral"
does it matter if I meant nothing?
(Or less than nothing?)
Am I just the casing around the bomb?

Three-four sorrow, spun in silk
A sip of envy, a dash of guilt
I laced my shame in major thirds
The strings were weeping, not my words
Spoke in symbols, dreamed in code
But woke to find I'd overflowed
A masterpiece of self-contempt
Curated, clean, irreverent

The cat walked across the MIDI keys
And that became the hook, with perfect ease
Critics said it echoed Mahler's grief
She was just hungry. That's the motif

Raise a glass to the tortured chord!
To the melody forged in a metaphysical war!
To the line that sounds just like despair
Though I wrote it in line at the DMV’s chair

We are patrons of the hollow hall
Where echoes win the curtain call
I gift you this: a soul on tape
Wrapped in theory, sealed in fate

I don't like me
I don't think you would either
But here it is
Six movements
Key changes
Time signatures that would make a metronome cry
Please, clap

Art for art’s sake, and me for no one's
Praise the mask that sings when the man has gone
The ink is dry, the curtains close
The ghost you loved... never composed

Ars Ex Nihilo

This is about going back to my childhood years and having fond memories of growing up. When life was simple and carefree. This also relates to my teenage and early 20" s times when there was a time of exploring and having adventures.
Special thanks to Pixabay for the background effects.

Years Gone By

Darkamor #8, Silk, A lonely tavern finds itself a meeting ground for a group of mysterious women wrapped in silk, hiding all they're features. who are they?

Ars Ex Nihilo

Axioms of Mediocrity