Children under rubble

Parched lips whisper to the fleeting sun,
Eyes shut tight as victory cries tear through the air.
Tomorrow is lost—ripped from the heart, leaving only void.

Mire and ash, rain soaked in blood,
Limbs torn apart—what was their crime?

Blood spills over blood, a ceaseless tide of crimson.

Bodies twisted, flesh laid bare,
Again and again—merciless, relentless.
Will we ever understand?
Will it ever end?

We once painted a future upon the sky,
Dreamed of a tomorrow where peace would come.
But beneath the rubble, the beating hearts faded into silence.

Who decides what is just? Who holds the truth?
Beyond the tears, beyond the sky—vanishing into the blue.

We will not forget. We cannot erase—
Not until all who sleep may rest in peace.

--------------------------------

瓦礫の子ども達

乾いた唇　儚く嘆く陽に
瞳は閉じた　耳を削ぐ凱歌響き
失う明日は　心の臓抉る

泥水滲む　灰の雨血の海
四肢を引き裂き散る理由

血で血を洗う絶え間なく注ぐ赫

身体は捻じれた　肌蹴た肉片と
無様に　繰り返す  無情に　繰り返され
いつかは解り合う？
いつかは終わりが？

空に描いていた　迎えたはずの未来
誰も彼も焦がれた安息の日へ
鼓動は静かに消えた　瓦礫の下

誰かが正しい　誰がそれを決まるの？
涙の向こうへ蒼の空へ消え

忘れない消えない　全てが眠るまで

vocal : SANAGI　@mk-yk
Composition and lyrics : カハルタカオ

Composed in July 2024

瓦礫の子ども達 -Children under rubble-

Made only using Attic Grand from CrowHill Vaults, for the October composer challenge. Could do with editing midi as some notes are too harsh and were supposed to be played softer, may post an updated version later.
Instrument: Attic Grand piano, FX such as Crowhill Piano Rack, other FX from Logic and Reason 11.

A Box From The Attic

Away Space

Ice Cold Reds

2025-02-25

walking on thin ice

this is my 'The Heart's Filthy Lesson' ;)

THE EDGE OF THE ISLAND

And we come to the edge
of this island we call home
it's a place where
the waves crash on the shore
we come to the edge
of the island we call home
it's a place nobody
can ignore
in the cliffs you find a bone cave
it's an enclave
no it just a bone cave
it's a place
nobody can ignore
in the cliffs you find a bone cave
it's a place where
…nobody can save them
…nobody can save them
We come to the edge
of this island we call home
and
the waves crash on the 
shore
And we come to the edge
of the island we call home
it's a place that nobody can ignore
it's a place 
that nobody can ignore






The Edge Of The Island

Best Foot Forward (2024) Anthology CD1 Track 03

Time Machines (2024) Anthology CD1 Track 04

Torvysl_02

ARABESKEN II

actions/ reactions/ interactions: soprano clarinet/ interactive electronics

040825sc impX

In the earliest days of Mu —
before temples, before resonance machines, before sound had learned its own name —
the air itself could hum.

It was not yet music.
It was motion: the trembling of waves inside the fog,
the slow shimmer of dawn above the still lagoons.

The people of Mu never called it anything.
They simply listened.

They believed that every drop of rain carried its own melody,
and when water touched another surface,
it remembered how to sing.

Children held out their hands to the rain,
catching the sound as if it were a living thing made of breath and echo.

They called those moments naive reveries —
not because they were simple,
but because they did not yet know themselves.

Sound did not try to become a song.
It simply existed —
until silence folded it gently back into itself.

At dusk, when the sky turned pale gold and the ocean mirrored the leaving sun,
some would sit by the sleeping waves and play loops from air —
small circles of tone born from wind, shells, glass reeds.

Each loop repeated until it faded, like foam returning to the sea.
None sounded the same, and none were ever finished.
They would say:
the sound of vanishing is the sound of return.

Many cycles later, when Mu was half-forgotten,
its languages scattered into whispers and static,
those naive reveries were found again — faint recordings hidden in stone and salt.

They still sounded fragile, as if shy about existing.
No one dared to fix them.
They were left untouched — small loops of time,
created before meaning, before creation knew itself.

Now, if you listen closely, those sounds awaken once more —
not as compositions, but as memories that belong to no one.

They rise like bubbles underwater — slow, luminous,
forming circles that dissolve into each other.

They have nothing to tell.
They only remind:
once, long ago,
the world made music by accident.

Mu never composed —
it only breathed.

And its breath became a song.

- Echo That Breathes

I found a wave in the grass,
kept it safe inside a glass.
In the morning it began —
Mu was breathing once again.



- The Quiet Orbit

Fog is soft, I touch and taste,
like the sea that lost its face.
Somewhere deep my dream still hums,
made of names and little drums.



- Liquid Memory

Water speaks in fragile tone,
like a language made of bone.
Caught a word — it tried to flee,
now it hums inside of me.



- Veil of Aether

The wind forgot the ground below,
it hummed where only echoes go.
I tried to catch its silver skin —
and felt the quiet breathe me in.



- Voice Beneath Water

Shadow dancing on the wall,
knows the shape of spring and fall.
“Who are you?” I asked in awe —
“I’m the pause in what you saw.”



- Minor Garden

If you pour a drop in heart,
tiny circles will restart.
Mu will pass and leave no clue —
just a silence shining through.



- Axis of Return

I asked clouds where dreams are kept,
they said, “Under what has slept.”
Mu then whispered, “Look, it’s near —
on the back of folded year.”



- Light Through Salt Veins

Caught a beam of silver light,
lost it quick into the night.
Mu said softly, “Let it be —
you will shine enough for me.”



- Glass Recalling Air

I forgot the name of sound,
but it follows me around.
When I stop, it stops to too —
when I move, it whispers “Mu.”



- Rising Through Mirrors

Rain was whispering to me,
like a voice beneath the sea.
“I’m with Mu,” I said aloud,
and dissolved into a cloud.



- Child of the Wave

The sea was small inside my hand,
it whispered, “Do not understand.”
I let it go — it stayed instead,
and built a garden in my head.



- Unwritten Spiral

I just cried for no real cause,
Mu said, “Keep it — never pause.
Tears are sounds that make you true,
round and gentle, just like dew.”



- Echo That Dreams

In my sleep I saw some noise,
made of water, dust, and toys.
Mu was laughing: “You’re not two —
you’re my echo, dreaming too.”

“The world once sang and never knew.”


Glass Recalling Air

a great honor for me  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRfaP4ROcQs

no professional aspirations, just entertainment
home recordings just for the joy of music
Everything is based on feelings and moods. No use of AI.
thank you for listening
Thank you all for your comments, because there is always room for improvement
I am still looking, trying and experimenting, I really like electronic ambient for many years, but it only works as a live percussionist. In short, nothing is black or white:)
In today's hectic world I need quiet sounds and the vast majority of songs created at night, so are my compositions such as they are.

My tracks is based on the absolute freedom of the use of sound. Arises as if I painted a picture. In the head is the base, and then adding the details here and there.
As well as if I were his music told the story.

I use: Ableton-Live-Suite with Partnerinstrumets, Kontakt Player + virtual instrumentzs,NI-Machine, Ableton Push, Acces Virus TI Snow, Waldorf Blofeld, AKAI MPK 49, Korg Microkorg XL+,KORG Kaossilator,Kaosspad,KORG Wavedrum, Roland HPD 20, nord lead A1 r, Yamaha mx49, Roland Edirol for Fieldrecordings - and various live percussion.(Kalimba, frame drum, tombak, koshi etc)

walking on thin ice

Night Note

Recent comments

gnarrang

Related tracks