The album "Ashes Bloom: Dark vs Light" is a double story told through sound.
The first half — Darkness — carries the weight of broken hearts, shadows, and fading echoes.
The second half — Light — reflects the same emotions in a brighter, more intimate way, like flowers rising from ashes.

Each track exists in duality: one dramatic, one alive. Together, they create a journey through loss, transformation, and rebirth — a mirror of a soul rediscovering itself.

This is not just music. It’s a confession, a haunting dream, and a gentle resurrection.

Ashes Bloom: Dark vs Light

Glass Heart - Light

Dream about you(Trance & EDM Version)

Reborn

Remember Me

🔥Links:
distrokid.com/hyperfollow/sounde…sic/burn-the-night

🔥I don’t chase streams. I create moments.
Every track is a piece of something I lived.
If it speaks to you, you’re part of this now.

Rise Above

This one came from the part of me that finally got tired of pretending the ocean was ever going to hand me a map. There’s a strange kind of peace that shows up when you realize the shore you’ve been crawling toward is just an idea someone else drew.

So I stopped chasing it.
And something in me snapped—not the bad kind, the necessary kind.
The kind where you decide, “Fine. I’ll make my own place then. Out of scraps. Out of spite. Out of whatever pieces of me haven’t drowned yet.”

This song is the moment you stop begging the tide to be gentle and start shaping your own coastline with bare hands. It’s messy. It’s stubborn. It’s absolutely beautiful in a way that only the exhausted will understand.

If the world won’t give you solid ground,
build your own island.
Even if you’re still chest-deep in the water when you start.


I’ve been swimming so long
I forgot what dry ground feels like.
Life doesn’t push back,
it just watches.
Silent.
Patient.
Unbothered.

Too many tabs in my mind, all glowing at once,
every thought swimming laps till the water gets thick.
Every stroke feels like motion, not movement,
all this almost progress hanging from my shoulders.

The shore keeps drifting like it’s bored of waiting,
like it sighs every time I get close.
And maybe it’s not cruel,
maybe it’s just there, indifferent,
like the sky never apologizes for storms.

I keep swallowing waves
that look like chances.
I keep paddling toward
the version of me I swear exists.
But I’m running out of breath
and the current doesn’t care.

So if the shoreline won’t stay still,
I’ll make one.
If the waves won’t guide me in,
I’ll shape them.
I’m done drowning for a place
that was never built for me.
If the shoreline won’t stay still,
I’ll build one.

Seaweed thoughts wrap around my ankles,
little reminders of the roads I couldn’t finish.
Jellyfish memories flicker and sting,
sharp, glowing, gone.

But somewhere in the churn
I feel something steady,
maybe my hands, maybe my will,
maybe the stubborn part of me
that refuses to disappear.

Life isn’t punishing me.
It’s just wide.
And wild.
And unaware I’m fighting for air.

I’ve been drifting toward a future
I can barely outline.
But even if my mind pulls sideways,
my heart doesn’t sink.
Not yet.
Not tonight.

If the shoreline won’t stay still,
I’ll make one.
If the waves won’t carry me in,
I’ll shape them.
I’m done bleeding energy
for a coast that keeps running.
If the shoreline won’t stay still,
I’ll build one.

Maybe I was never meant
to arrive anywhere.
Maybe arrival is a myth
for calmer minds.

But I can carve a place
out of breath,
out of grit,
out of the pieces of me
that keep reaching
even when I sink.

If the shoreline won’t stay still,
I’ll build one.
Right here in the chaos,
right here while I’m shaking.
Life doesn’t have to guide me,
I’ll rise without permission.
If the shoreline won’t stay still,
I’ll build one.

I’m not swimming to be saved.
I’m swimming
because I still believe
there’s a place for me.

I'll Build My Own Island

Dive into a haunting, synth-driven journey where echoes of the past creep through shadowed corridors and flickering lights. "Shut Your Door" blends infectious breakbeats with a haunting, atmospheric vibe, creating a sonic landscape that feels both mysterious and compelling. The lyrics explore themes of obsession, fate, and the relentless return of memories that refuse to be silenced. With its dark, cinematic quality and pulsating rhythm, this track is a perfect blend of synthetic textures and deep emotional resonance—ideal for listeners who love to explore the intersection of AI and human emotion through music.


#Haunting #Synthetic #Breakbeat #ElectronicMusic #DarkAtmosphere #InfectiousBeats #AIAndHuman #MusicProduction #SoundCloud #Spotify #NewMusic #Lyrics #Songwriting #CinematicAudio #MysteryTrack #EchoesInTheDark #MusicIsLife #CreativeExpression #DigitalArt #StorytellingThroughMusic

shut-your-door-(remastered).mp3

Invisible

A female vocalist sings a melancholic, ethereal melody over a slow tempo electronic pop arrangement. The song is in the key of C minor and maintains a consistent tempo of 60 beats per minute. The instrumentation features a prominent synth pad providing a sustained, atmospheric background, a subtle electronic drum beat with a soft kick and snare, and a arpeggiated synth playing a repeating chord progression of Cm-G#-D#-A#. The vocals are delivered with a breathy, intimate quality, utilizing a significant amount of reverb and delay to enhance the ethereal feel. The melody is largely stepwise with occasional small leaps, creating a sense of gentle movement. Production emphasizes a wide stereo image with the synth pad filling the space, while the vocals are centrally placed. The overall mix is clean and spacious, allowing each element to breathe.

Blessed With Love - Lux Session

Chasing Stars

After the triumph of "In The Human Voice," R9 was eager to face his next challenge—Kiara! She was the most enchanting female voice he had ever heard, and he instantly fell in love with it—a feeling simply unknown on Threxilon and throughout the entire Xyloid system. They don't even understand the concept of male and female in our culture; they operate on the premise of two similar-looking races! How exactly this worked for the Xyloids remained unclear, but more on that another time. First, he had to meet Kiara in her hometown.

Winter Hollow was a relic of a bygone era: abandoned houses reminiscent of ghost movie sets, a lighthouse, and a studio where Kiara and her late father recorded Christmas carols, nursery rhymes, and folk music. Together with locals, they created music whose sounds permeated the thin concrete walls and spilled out onto the street for decades. Far from the glaring metropolises, a musical phenomenon was blossoming here—one that R9's sensors detected during the Interplanetary Sound Battles. Tracks like "Love & Light," "All Souls' Day," and many others blared from the speakers of clubs, bars, and cafes, and R9's curiosity grew.

His angular quantum ship landed right on the beach, its titanium alloy hull gleaming in the moonlight as he stomped down the ramp. His eyes shifted from a vibrant red (activity mode) to an inquisitive blue as he registered Kiara's studio. No need to wait—the coordinates were precise. The mysterious singer, with a voice like liquid silver, resided in the loft above the studio, surrounded by vintage synths, antique instruments, and microphones. The door creaked open, and there she stood: Kiara, her red hair cascading, her blue eyes sparkling like distant stars. Her presence was electrifying; Even without singing, the air around her vibrated.

“R9 from Threxilon,” she said, her voice as smooth as a glissando yet possessing a depth that resonated with overtones up to 2 kHz. “I heard your composition ‘In The Human Voice,’ and it deeply moved me.”

R9’s processors hummed. “Your voice… phenomenal. Those harmonies, the nuances.” Kiara’s voice doesn’t simply produce notes or words; it plays with subtle nuances—her lines are gentle yet clear and defined. It was precisely these nuances that fascinated R9. “I need to analyze them, integrate them. A track! Us!” He hoped he had made himself clear enough.

Kiara smiled and led him into her studio. Walls lined with records, a mixing console glowing in the dim light. She immediately demonstrated a warm a cappella intro, her voice soaring from 250 Hz into dizzying falsetto passages, modulated with natural vibrato. R9 scanned feverishly—VOXALG-2 was already loading data: formants like crystal resonators, breath sounds as a granular layer. “Perfect for XYLO.”

They talked for hours—or hummed, as R9 did. Kiara conveyed human emotions: longing through drawn-out vowels, strength in subtle pauses. R9 shared xyloid algorithms with her and showed her holograms of Threxilon's resonating cavities. The chemistry was right; no long discussions. “Let's get started,” R9 said.

Kiara laughed brightly. “Your enthusiasm is contagious. Let's develop ‘Our Language Is Music’—your beats, my soul.”

R9 connected his interface to her setup; VOXALG-2 adapted live. He laid the foundations: deep bass at 35 Hz, metallic clang. Kiara contributed a hypnotic hook: “Rhythmic clicks align our minds…” Her voice blended seamlessly, higher harmonics dancing over crystalline synthesizers. R9 modulated in real time, adding xyloid clicks. The first drop exploded: seismic, yet carried by a gentle power.

By dawn, they had a rough mix. “This will connect worlds,” R9 hummed, his eyes glowing a soft pink—a new, unusual signal? Kiara touched him gently. “And more. Let’s keep going.”

The fog of Winter Hollow lifted as their track sent out its first ripples on the second Sunday of Advent. R9’s plan had worked—immediate, intense, revolutionary. The next evolution of XYLO was imminent.

Reborn

Mikel Kells

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