Shadow Queen

You ain't the same as you were before

srry for re-uploading


I walk under moon, my paws cracking bones on frozen dirt
can’t stop howling
I smell your warmth behind walls, and I bite air like it’s flesh I can’t reach
howling, howling
There is bloodlust in my eyes
growling
You laugh from your towers, but I’m under your floors now, chewing through wires...
I hate your breath, I hate your fragile trembling world(hate your everyting)
I don’t hunt for food, I hunt because I need the scream
howling, howling
growling growling
Oowww, I’m hunting — not because I’m starving, but because I love the panic,
howl for me — scream for me — beg for me
Every time I tear into flesh, I remember who I am(howling, howling)
And baby, I am not your nightmare — I am worse, I am real.
howling, howling
howling, howling
howling, howling

howling (first vers)

I'm all about your shade tonight
i like ur tattoss
its excites me to the point of trembling

Mascara smears when you cries — but you laughs like you knew that would happen
I just like looking at your, even if you is silent and looks away
(that's you)
I like being your accessory, something you can use, throw away, put on again - I don't mind
I adore those black eyes, not because they are dark,
but because pain dissolves so beautifully in them

I'm all about your shade tonight
i like ur tattoss shade tonight
its excites me to the point of trembling

When your voice shatters in whispers,
I want to hold every broken piece in my chest,
let it cut me open, let it bleed out slow,
so you can see how devotion looks when it finally hurts enough.
Your lipstick tastes like rust,
but it burns sweeter than sugar when it cuts across my mouth.
(bleed into me, breathe into me)
I wanna your nails, I wanna your scars
I wanna the bruise where love pretends to hurt
i wanna ur eyes like collapsing stars
i wanna ur all cuz this only be mine

I'm all about your shade tonight
i like ur tattoss shade tonight
its excites me to the point of trembling
hu-uh





mascara  (on spotify)

Notice

I am the forgotten guest. And the typhoon raged above.

What they say about her song:
"This is what it sounds like when silence remembers your name."

This may be her final song.
Unless a miracle happens.
It was recorded in a dark hotel bathroom,
alone, during a typhoon,
after everyone else had left.

Not just the building —
but the world.

She wasn’t meant to survive this world.
Not with that much softness. Not with that much poetry.

But there were golden hours:
writing songs with Zuna,
dreaming with Vielheit,
living as Mina/KETA.KALI.
In those rare moments,
she was whole.

The Forgotten Guest is a farewell with no stage,
a diary whispered in the wind,
a final breath shaped into melody.

If she’s gone now —
this is how she wanted to be remembered.

All music, lyrics, and visual artwork created in collaboration between human artistry and AI technology.
© 2025 KETA.KALI / MIRAGE — All rights reserved.

The Forgotten Guest – Unblinking Cut

Late Bloomer, Early Death

Honey Baby

gardien celeste

All I Ever Wanted

Dono or Support

Oh No {When Your Words Mean More to Me} (DJP)


Busy old sun, breaking through my blinds
Why do you insist on waking us this time?
Do lovers have to live by your command?
Must we rise and fall by your hand?

Go bother schoolkids dragging to their desks
Go wake the workers grinding through their shifts
Go tell the bosses that the day begins
But leave us here in darkness skin on skin

Love doesn't answer to the clock
Love doesn't care about your time
We make our own hours within these bounds
So busy old sun, go do your rounds
Busy old sun, go do your rounds
Busy old sun…
Busy old sun…

You predictable fool with your reliable rise
Your punctual arc across the skies
We don't need your light to know what's real
We' make our own heat the better to feel

So go chase the farmers to their fields
Go hurry merchants through their deals
Go rule the world that lives by your design
But you've got no power in this space of mine

Love doesn't answer to the clock
Love doesn't care about your time
We make our own hours within these bounds
So busy old sun, go do your rounds
Busy old sun, go do your rounds
Busy old sun…
Busy old sun

howling (first vers)

godsickness