Another song to compose the album Revolution. Hope you all like it. Feel free to share and use. Just remember to give me credit :)

Lyrics:

Crimson Dawn

In the silence before the storm  
Shadows crawl beneath the light  
Ashes whisper ancient warnings  
As the sky begins to ignite

From the ruins of the old world  
We rise with bloody hands  
Chains shattered in defiance  
We march across the lands

With every step the Earth remembers
We rise with bloody hands  
Chains shattered in defiance  
We march across the lands

With every step the Earth remembers
The cries of those who dared to stand
The storm is rising in our veins
This is the hour, we’ll make our stand

Crimson dawn, we rise again  
From shattered dreams and burning rain  
Voices roar, the chains undone  
We are the fire — we are the sun

Smoke and steel beneath our feet  
Hope flickers in the flame  
We bleed for truth, not glory  
No tyrant leaves unchanged

The sky is torn with thunder  
But still we stand, unbowed  
Our hearts beat like war drums  
We scream our oath aloud

Crimson dawn, we rise again  
From shattered dreams and burning rain  
Voices roar, the chains undone  
We are the fire — we are the sun (we’ve just begun)


Crimson Dawn (from the album Revolution)

Crimson Dawn

A personal expression of intimacy and restoration. “Hiding Place” is a song born from quiet moments with Yeshua — a journey from brokenness to belonging, from silence to communion. It’s not a psalm, but a lived prayer. May it bring peace to those who seek refuge in His presence.

Lyrics:

I heard Your voice in the stillness within 
Calling me gently to draw near again 
Each day I seek You, and You meet me here 
Your presence is all that I hold dear

Even when the night surrounds my soul 
You’re the well that never runs dry 
You lead me with a love so whole 
In Your arms, I come alive

You make me like a garden in bloom 
Like a river that flows with grace 
You restore what was broken and bruised 
In Your hands, I find my place 
You are, You are
with me closer still (still),
my hiding -- PLACE

You’ve turned my heart from ruins to light 
Made Your dwelling where there was no life 
Now I live to lift Your name on high 
My story is Yours to glorify

Yeshua, You’re my closest friend 
In You I find peace and rest 
You’re my refuge, strong to defend 
I trust You, and I am blessed

You make me like a garden in bloom 
Like a river that flows with grace 
You restore what was broken and bruised 
In Your hands, I find my place 
You are, You are
with me closer still (still),
my hiding -- PLACE


© Esdras da Silva Castro. Licensed under CC BY 4.0.
This work may be shared, adapted, and used — even commercially — as long as proper credit is given.


Hiding Place

A chilling plunge into the abyss between human nature and humanity. "Broken Vessels" is a powerful symphonic/progressive metal anthem that vividly portrays a post-war landscape, where the innocence of children shatters amidst the ruins and the deafening silence of a world that chose to look away. Composed by Supon Atime, this track is a raw, emotional outcry against indifference and the profound cost of apathy.

Lyrics:

Dust hangs heavy on a wounded sky,
A child's tear reflects the burnt-out light.
Concrete angels watch as seasons die,
Born into a world of endless night.
We learned to speak with stones and broken glass,
A nursery rhyme of sirens and of dread.
The innocence we held? It's gone too fast,
A silent ghost among the living dead.

Oh, the chasm grows between the man and kind,
A fractured soul, a world left far behind.
The echoes scream, but no one hears the call,
We watched the fall and did not break the fall.
Just shadows moving through a faded haze,
In a silent war of empty, vacant days.

Your silver tongue, it speaks of peace and grace,
While iron teeth tear at the young and weak.
You build your churches on a hollow space,
But hear the silence of the ones who seek.
A mother weeps, her voice a whispered plea,
A brother bleeds while others turn away.
This is the curse of what we used to be,
A fractured mirror at the end of day.

Oh, the chasm grows between the man and kind,
A fractured soul, a world left far behind.
The echoes scream, but no one hears the call,
We watched the fall and did not break the fall.
Just shadows moving through a faded haze,
In a silent war of empty, vacant days.

The sun itself, a cold and distant lie,
A fading promise in a fractured land.
We sold our souls to watch our children cry,
The blood of innocence stains every hand.
You look away, you say you're not to blame,
But every turning back fuels the flame.

Oh, the chasm grows between the man and kind,
A fractured soul, a world left far behind.
The echoes scream, but no one hears the call,
We watched the fall and did not break the fall.
Just shadows moving through a faded haze,
In a silent war of empty, vacant days.

The man... and the kind...
No echo...
No answer...
Just the silence...
The emptiness...

---

This track is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0. You are free to use, adapt, remix, and distribute it — including for commercial purposes — as long as proper credit is given to Supon Atime.

Feel free to reinterpret, perform, or include this track in your own projects — the spirit of "Broken Vessels" resonates with every voice that speaks against the silence.

Broken Vessels

A symphonic metal composition exploring the irreversible nature of choice and consequence. “The Chronos Ricochet” blends poetic lyricism with orchestral intensity and progressive guitar work to reflect on the moment where time fractures — and the echoes of our decisions return with force. Created independently as part of the Supon Atime project, this track is released without monetization or label support. If it resonates with you, your support helps keep the music alive.

Lyrics:

The Chronos Ricochet

The hour glass is fractured, spilling golden dust upon the floor
Silence where the promise was, a breath held fast before the final war
I stand at the Zero Hour, the architect of consequence and cost
A singular decree cast out, before the ancient map of time is lost.
We ask, "What's upon a time?"—and find the present moment is the fuse,
A single thought that burns the bridge, a solitary choice I cannot lose.

The hammer falls in slow motion, an inevitable, metallic kiss
Knowing this trajectory, this fatal path, leads only to abyss.
The bullet is the narrative, the script I cannot pause or rearrange,
A whisper fired from the chamber that demands the world must change.

This is the Ricochet, the parabolic siren song!
The singular decision that we knew was right, yet felt was wrong.
It shatters every mirror held by history and future state,
A temporal displacement, screaming back against the face of Fate!
The Chronos Ricochet—it travels on a twisting, endless helix,
And every echo that returns, returns with an unbearable complex.

The scattered light of impact now divides across a thousand distant shores,
A silent mosaic built of damage, opening unknown and unseen doors.
The movement of the one becomes the tremor felt by every passing soul,
A fractured reflection in the mirror of the fragments taking toll.
They never saw the genesis, only the aftermath and the decay,
But every dreamer holds the sound of that first shot from yesterday.

The hammer falls in slow motion, an inevitable, metallic kiss
Knowing this trajectory, this fatal path, leads only to abyss.
The bullet is the narrative, the script I cannot pause or rearrange,
A whisper fired from the chamber that demands the world must change.

This is the Ricochet, the parabolic siren song!
The singular decision that we knew was right, yet felt was wrong.
It shatters every mirror held by history and future state,
A temporal displacement, screaming back against the face of Fate!
The Chronos Ricochet—it travels on a twisting, endless helix,
And every echo that returns, returns with an unbearable complex.

We tried to call it destiny, a simple mathematical arc,
But the rebound holds a fury born of darkness and the hollow dark.
The bullet found its target, yes, but its velocity increased on the return—
A feedback loop of sorrow that the soul must inevitably learn.
The paradox of power: to choose is to be bound for all of time;
The payment for the future is the loss of what was once sublime.

What's upon a time now?
The echo is the answer...
The cost is the Ricochet...

---

© Esdras da Silva Castro. Licensed under CC BY 4.0.
This work may be shared, adapted, and used — even commercially — as long as proper credit is given.


The Chronos Ricochet

A symphonic metal journey through isolation, memory, and self-reckoning. “The Unbound Distance” blends orchestral textures with heavy riffs and poetic lyrics to explore the emotional cost of separation — and the revelation that sometimes, the distance was chosen. This track is part of the independent project Supon Atime, created without monetization or label support. If it resonates with you, consider supporting.

Lyrics:

The kitchen clock still ticks, a liar in the hollowed space,
I am the only island left, where every ship of solace passed.
If I am lost, then where is the search party sent for my reprieve?
The vacuum of the hours screams its verdict now, bowing down.

This is the Emptiness Unbound,
a desert carved within the soul!
Every echo that returns is proof
that nothing here remains.
The price of separation is the silence they cannot hear.

I tried to fill the crater left by what they didn't leave behind,
I built a wall from every gentle word they offered on that final day.
If I am lost, then where is the search party sent for my reprieve?
The vacuum of the hours screams its verdict now, bowing down.

This is the Emptiness Unbound,
a desert carved within the soul!
Every echo that returns is proof
that nothing here remains.
The price of separation is the silence they cannot hear.

Wait! The wound is not rejection,
but the horizon I myself embraced.
The painful truth is the consequence I failed to check.
The isolation I lament is the distance I chose to erect.

This is the Emptiness Unbound,
a desert carved within the soul!
Every echo that returns is proof
that nothing here remains.
The final reckoning proved:

when you seize your fate,
the return is too late!
when you seize your fate


---

© Esdras da Silva Castro. Licensed under CC BY 4.0.
This work may be shared, adapted, and used — even commercially — as long as proper credit is given.


The Unbound Distance

A reflective and emotional piece blending orchestral melancholy with poetic intimacy. “Phantom Hearth” explores the quiet transformation brought by love — and the lingering absence that follows. With clean guitars, solemn piano, and a soaring solo, this track captures the warmth of connection and the ache of memory. Part of the independent project Supon Atime, created without monetization or label support. If it resonates with you, your support helps keep the music alive.

Lyrics: Phantom Hearth

The world was etched in monochrome, a vast and silent pane,
My inner current was still, anticipating the rain.
I navigated rooms of glass, where feeling couldn't breathe,
A perfect, hollow equilibrium, a simple shell beneath.
I never knew the color of the warmth until your breath arrived.

You were the pulse that broke the ice, the rhythm I could hold,
A flash of sapphire in the gray, the sunrise I was sold.
My canvas was an empty page, now painted in your light,
And every shade of joy I see is borrowed from your sight.

I built my sanctuary from the kindness in your eyes,
Found peace in the geography of how your spirit flies.
You taught my hands the simple truth that life was meant to bloom,
And every time you laughed, it chased the winter from the room.
Now every cold returning breeze whispers the truth I hide.

You were the pulse that broke the ice, the rhythm I could hold,
A flash of sapphire in the gray, the sunrise I was sold.
My canvas was an empty page, now painted in your light,
And every shade of joy I see is borrowed from your sight.

This current air is heavy, the silence knows your name.
I still feel the phantom heat where you once touched the flame.
A hollow echo in the wood, a vacant chair by the door,
The sun still rises, but it doesn't burn like it did before.

You were the pulse that broke the ice, the rhythm I could hold,
A flash of sapphire in the gray, the sunrise I was sold.
My canvas was an empty page, now painted in your light,
And every shade of joy I see is borrowed from your sight.
Borrowed from your light...

---

© Esdras da Silva Castro. Licensed under CC BY 4.0.
This work may be shared, adapted, and used — even commercially — as long as proper credit is given.

Phantom Hearth

A symphonic progressive metal piece exploring secrecy, internal tension, and the pressure of hidden truth. “The Unveiling Protocol” blends poetic introspection with technical guitar work and orchestral intensity, capturing the emotional weight of a silent war within. Created independently as part of the Supon Atime project, this track is released without monetization or label support. If it resonates with you, your support helps keep the music alive.

Lyrics: The Unveiling Protocol

I carry a script that can't be read out loud.
A single truth to shatter every vow.
It’s the fault-line sleeping underneath my floor,
A detonation waiting at the door.

I feel the fragile casing finally bend.
When will this silent, private war end?

Every second is a key pressed to the lock.
My mind’s a safe where every tick is a mock.
This heavy silence is the price I pay to keep,
The only secret that I wish would simply sleep.

The walls I built are porous, soft, and thin.
A strange new energy is breaking from within.
They look at me and sense the shifting ground,
The hidden core is now without a sound.

I feel the fragile casing finally bend.
When will this silent, private war end?

Every second is a key pressed to the lock.
My mind’s a safe where every tick is a mock.
This heavy silence is the price I pay to keep,
The only secret that I wish would simply sleep.

(A highly technical, emotional guitar solo over a massive orchestral swell. The orchestration drops in dynamics after the solo to prepare for the final, repeated chorus.)

Every second is a key pressed to the lock.
My mind’s a safe where every tick is a mock.
This heavy silence is the price I pay to keep,
The only secret that I wish would simply sleep.

---

© Esdras da Silva Castro. Licensed under CC BY 4.0.
This work may be shared, adapted, and used — even commercially — as long as proper credit is given.

Unveiling Protocol

A symphonic pop metal ballad about identity, performance, and the quiet erosion of self. This male vocal version of “Empty Frame” brings a deeper resonance to the themes of internal conflict and emotional isolation. With expressive orchestration, layered synths, and a soaring guitar solo, the track captures the ache of living behind a mask. Part of the independent project Supon Atime and the concept album Ricochet, this piece was created without monetization or label support. If it speaks to you, your support helps keep the music alive.

Lyrics: Empty Frame

They drew the lines upon the chart for me.
Said, "This is where your life is meant to be."
I wear the name and smile they gave to use,
But every single victory feels like a bruise.

The reflection stares with eyes I don't know well.
A captive soul behind a crystal cell.
I scream for freedom, but the sound remains unheard.
Living a flawless life defined by every word.

The air I breathe is heavy with their sight.
There is no place for me to run or hide.

I look at the glass but the face isn't mine.
A borrowed shape on a cold, silver line.
My true name is carved on a cold tombstone.
This perfect prison, I must face it alone.

The silence screams against the closing gate.
I whisper words that they will never hate.
The script is flawless, the performance clean,
But deep inside, I starve for what has been.

The surface shivers, but the truth remains unseen.
I stare at something cold, sharp, and clean.
This silence grows where all my dreams once died.
There is no exit on the other side. 

The air I breathe is heavy with their sight.
There is no place for me to run or hide.

I look at the glass but the face isn't mine.
A borrowed shape on a cold, silver line.
My true name is carved on a cold tombstone.
This perfect prison, I must face it alone.

I look at the glass but the face isn't mine.
A borrowed shape on a cold, silver line.
My true name is carved on a cold tombstone.
This perfect prison, I must face it alone.
My own voice has left my command.
My own voice scream my lament.

---

© Esdras da Silva Castro. Licensed under CC BY 4.0.
This work may be shared, adapted, and used — even commercially — as long as proper credit is given.


Empty Frame from Ricochet

Empty Frame

An explosive, tri-vocal epic blending the narrative scope of Power Metal Opera with the driving intensity of Heavy Metal. "Iron and Memory" is a story of internal warfare, contrasting the cold, dehumanizing "Iron" of conflict with the fierce "Memory" that keeps love alive.

Lyrics: Iron and Memory

The window pane is my lonely altar, the hours are cruel and slow.
Every distant toll of the bell plants the fear of a sentence I don't know.
There is a hollow silence where your gentle voice used to be,
With folded letters on the table, I pray they find their way to me.

The force of love reverberates on the line of fire and deep despair.
I gave you my whole life, return to this waiting warm air!
If the machine takes me now, remember that I fought for our core.
Our future is the final shot that moves beyond all locked doors.

Smoke covers the tired sky, no truce, only the final abyss.
I see faceless men falling; their last words were never to be kissed.
When the human inside fails, the machine wins, cold and wide.
My body is just a target, but home is the memory that keeps my wounds healed inside.
The tragedy is the untold tale, the silence where my spirit lies.

The force of love reverberates on the line of fire and deep despair.
I gave you my whole life, return to this waiting warm air!
If the machine takes me now, remember that I fought for our core.
Our future is the final shot that moves beyond all locked doors.

---

Part of the independent project Supon Atime and the concept album Ricochet, this piece was created without monetization or label support. If it speaks to you, your support helps keep the music alive.

© Esdras da Silva Castro. Licensed under CC BY 4.0. This work may be shared, adapted, and used — even commercially — as long as proper credit is given.

Iron and Memory

A progressive and melodic metal track about secret, inevitable transformation and the inner pressure of a hidden identity. "The Architect's Silence" blends the technical complexity of Dream Theater and Angra with cinematic orchestration to express the moment the vessel finally ruptures.

Lyrics: The Architect's Silence

The vessel is too tight, it cannot bear the strain—
A core of surging light burns in the hidden vein.
I move in silence, cataloging the rise of every new form;
I speak in measured tones to outrun the coming storm.
They look right through the cocoon, missing the new code here,
Suffering under compression, fueled by constant, silent fear.

This ignition will undo every bond that holds me fast.
The current of this truth is rupturing too fast.
I cannot cage the rising light; the moment is now near,
The final second when the old shell disappears.

I am the Architect's Silence,
the hidden pulse they can't define!
A diamond forming under deep and agonizing secrecy.
I carry the fire of unlocked creation; I am defying gravity.
The future self is locked within,
pleading to finally break free!

I sit among them, wearing the sheath of common sense,
I replicate their easy rhythm, a false equivalence.
But every fiber is straining; I must escape this lonely cell,
I am a surging, strange energy in a form that serves me ill.
I pray for the courage to emerge into this dawn,
To trade the day's obedience for the truth I've drawn.

This ignition will undo every bond that holds me fast.
The current of this truth is rupturing too fast.
I cannot cage the rising light; the moment is now near,
The final second when the old shell disappears.

I am the Architect's Silence,
the hidden pulse they can't define!
A diamond forming under deep and agonizing secrecy.
I carry the fire of unlocked creation; I am defying gravity.
The future self is locked within,
pleading to finally break free!

The threshold of expression is crossed—
the bond is now dissolved.
This outer sheath is rending, every soft constraint revolved.
I crave the rupture, the moment that the old disguise is shed.
The self-restraint is over—by this new power, I will be led!

Let the new form be known!
Let the real voice erupt!
The final silence yields to one intense,
majestic shock!

I am the Architect's Silence,
the hidden pulse they can't define!
A diamond forming under deep and agonizing secrecy.
I carry the fire of unlocked creation; I am defying gravity.
The future self is finally unleashed—I AM FREE!

---

This song is about the struggle to contain a self that is too vast for its current form. Part of the independent project Supon Atime and the concept album Ricochet, this piece was created without monetization or label support. If it speaks to you, your support helps keep the music alive.

© Esdras da Silva Castro. Licensed under CC BY 4.0. This work may be shared, adapted, and used — even commercially — as long as proper credit is given.

The Architect's Silence

Supon Atime is a one-person band project born from the fusion of storytelling and sonic experimentation. The name blends “SUP” (as in “what’s up”) with “Upon a time,” creating a playful yet poetic identity: What’s upon a time? — a question that invites listeners into a world of self-made soundscapes and lyrical tales.
Created by Esdras, Supon Atime exists to share original songs crafted with emotion, depth, and versatility. Each track is designed not just to be heard, but to be used — by other artists, creators, and dreamers seeking inspiration or collaboration. From symphonic metal epics to ambient reflections, the music is a canvas open to reinterpretation.
Driven by a DIY spirit and a passion for musical storytelling, Supon Atime is more than a name — it’s a movement of one, echoing many.

Empty Frame

Supon Atime

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