"Threshold of Eternity," written and performed by Xak Stahl, is a haunting exploration of the liminal space between life and death. Originally featuring an uptempo beat, this reimagined version embraces a more reflective tone, aligning closely with the song's profound subject matter.

The new arrangement draws inspiration from Stahl's earlier work, "Echoes of the Emerald Wood," incorporating acoustic and folk elements that create a moody, introspective atmosphere. This indie/alternative sound provides a fitting backdrop for the song's deep, existential themes.

Lyrically, "Threshold of Eternity" paints a vivid picture of a soul caught between two worlds, grappling with memories of the past and the uncertain promise of what lies beyond. The song's melodic hooks and thoughtful instrumentation complement its poignant narrative, inviting listeners to contemplate the nature of existence and the choices we face at life's most critical junctures.

Stahl's emotive vocals guide the audience through this spiritual journey, perfectly capturing the tension between the desire to cling to the familiar and the pull towards the unknown. "Threshold of Eternity" stands as a powerful meditation on mortality, choice, and the human experience, resonating deeply with anyone who has ever pondered what awaits us at the edge of existence.

Lyrics:

Suspended in the void, neither here nor there
Memories flash like lightning, life laid bare
Loved ones' faces fading, their cries grow faint
As the veil before me lifts, revealing what awaits

On the threshold of eternity
Torn between two worlds, which will it be?
The life I knew or the great unknown
Straddling the line between flesh and bone

Looking back at shattered dreams, chances missed
Forward to the promise of ethereal bliss
Unfinished symphonies echo in my mind
While whispers from beyond leave doubts behind

On the threshold of eternity
Torn between two worlds, which will it be?
The life I knew or the great unknown
Straddling the line between flesh and bone

Do I cling to mortal coil, or let it all go?
Embrace the light, or fight against its glow?
The choice is mine, but time is running thin
To live or die - which path will I begin?

On the threshold of eternity
Torn between two worlds, which will it be?
The life I knew or the great unknown
Straddling the line between flesh and bone

Threshold of Eternity

Slow and Steady Final draft

Behind the Curtain

Wrapped Fragrance

this is about many things not related to wrestling

Red vs Blue Remastered

Thought that Counts; Just (FINAL VERSION)

🎧 Riding My Bicycle
Indie Rock × Jangle Pop × Post-Punk
🕰️ ~92 BPM · 🎹 Key of E Major · 🎸 Melancholic • Bright • Ironically Isolated

A jangly ode to weekday melancholy in full sunlight. "Riding My Bicycle" captures the existential emptiness of post-work hours with glimmering guitars, melodic basslines, and dry, baritone vocals.

The sun’s still high — like it’s mocking you — and the only thing moving is your creaking bike and a mind replaying quiet disappointments. Garden hoses hiss, phones stay silent, and the half-empty street mirrors a half-empty self.

✨ Think:
– Sparkling, bittersweet guitar lines
– Rhythmic nostalgia à la early 80s UK underground
– Lyrical loneliness with melodic irony

📝 “Sun still shining / like it’s in on the hurt.”

Lyrics:

Clock-out click and the air stands still
My shirt sticks like a guilty thrill
The bike creaks low as I push away
Another wasted, whisper-grey day

Nobody waved when I left the door
Nobody waits on my second floor

Riding my bicycle / on a weekday home from work
Sun still shining / like it’s in on the hurt
No one waiting, nowhere to be
Just me and the heat and a half-empty street

Garden hoses hiss like snakes in dreams
The world pretends it’s what it seems
But every house with lights inside
Just echoes back my quiet ride

I check my phone like it might care
Then put it back — there’s nothing there

Riding my bicycle / on a weekday home from work
Sun still shining / like it’s in on the hurt
No one waiting, nowhere to be
Just me and the heat and a half-empty street

Tomorrow’s forecast: more of the same
A quiet commute, a forgotten name
TV glow and a fork on a plate
Dinner for one never tastes that great

Riding my bicycle / on a weekday home from work
Sun still shining / like it’s in on the hurt
No one waiting, nowhere to be
Just me and the heat and a half-empty street

Half-empty street...
Half-empty me...
Half of a life
in full daylight grief...

Riding My Bicycle

🏙️ Welcome to Mladá Boleslav – the town where your GPS sighs, your coffee comes with a user manual, and romance politely declines your friend request.

🎸 “Mladá Boleslav (Pop Version)” is your jangly, melancholic anthem for those who’ve ever fallen not in love, but into existential meh.
Think: post-punk rhythm meets small-town punctuality. Indie rock guitars wander wide streets of industrial indifference, while jangle pop melodies try to make eye contact with the Škoda museum (it blinks once, disapprovingly).

🧾 What to expect:
– Guitars as crisp as an Excel spreadsheet
– Lyrics stitched from quiet despair and precision welding
– That haunting feeling of ordering soup in a town where emotion is strictly regulated

🎧 Perfect for:
– Staring into your dashboard in parking lot P3
– Emotional breakdowns in well-organized bus terminals
– Writing sad postcards from towns you never meant to visit

📦 This isn’t heartbreak. It’s time management.
Hit play. And stay exactly as long as scheduled.

Lyrics:

Rolled in from the E65
Headlights fading gray
Industrial ghost line the road
Warehouses in silent ballet
Steel and glass, concrete and chrome
This town don't sing, but it hums like a metronome
Came too early, sky still cold
Eateries asleep behind shutters bold
Near Novy Park, by the football ground
A kind of silence that makes no sound

Mladá Boleslav
Like a clock without a chime
Precise, unfeeling, always on time
You won't fall in love, but you'll stay a while
Not for the thrill, but the measured mile

Mladá Boleslav
In your silence I find
A boredom so deep, it redefines time
Museum doors and a factory pride
Škoda hearts with no need to hide
Efficiency etched in every street
But no heartbeat, no jazz, no heat

Mladá Boleslav
Like a clock without a chime
Precise, unfeeling, always on time
You won't fall in love, but you'll stay a while
Not for the thrill, but the measured mile

Brushed past lives not lived, just done
Saturday's soul beneath a clouded sun
A city built like a resume page
Neat, correct, devoid of rage
There's beauty in the absence, a lesson in the plain
Like meeting someone stable yet driving you insane
They'll fix your car, your watch, your day
But never ask if you're okay

Mladá Boleslav
Like a clock without a chime
Precise, unfeeling, always on time
You won't write poems, but you'll write checks
Built on the bones of post-war specs

Mladá Boleslav
Like a whisper in the side
So cold, so calm, so borderline fine
Maybe not love, but something aligned
The hum of machines, I lose my mind
Mladá Boleslav, a name I won't forget
A soulless rhythm, I still can't regret

Mladá Boleslav (Pop Version)

You said lower your voice, they’ll listen more.
I learned that tone can bruise or bless.
Every phrase a blade with sugar on it,
You spoke, and the air confessed.
I took your lessons like communion,
Mouthed your rhythm, hid my breath.
You named me gentle, I became it.
You wrote my story in silhouette.

Now I measure every sound that leaves my mouth.
I know how silence can devour what it’s proud of.

Keep the subtitles on, don’t blink when I speak,
There’s command in the calm, there’s a storm underneath.
Every word is a wire, and I pull when you breathe,
I learned power in quiet, the gospel of deceit.
Keep the subtitles on, hear the hum in my throat,
I don’t shout anymore, I just bend every note.
Every syllable lands like a mark on your skin,
You wrote the script, but I speak it from within.

You said never raise your voice, raise your value.
I smiled and swallowed every spark.
You built a temple of phrasing and posture,
and crowned me fluent in the dark.
But I found your pulse between the pauses,
the crack behind your perfect tone.
Now I use your language like a mirror
you see yourself when I intone.

Every breath’s a weapon wrapped in grace.
You taught me syntax, now I teach you faith.

Keep the subtitles on, don’t blink when I speak,
There’s command in the calm, there’s a storm underneath.
Every word is a wire, and I pull when you breathe,
I learned power in quiet, the gospel of deceit.
Keep the subtitles on, hear the hum in my throat,
I don’t shout anymore, I just bend every note.
Every syllable lands like a mark on your skin,
You wrote the script, but I speak it from within.

Let the vowels fracture, let the meaning break.
Turn the language back to sound.
There’s freedom in the noise we make,
when no one’s keeping count.

Keep the subtitles on, don’t blink when I speak,
There’s command in the calm, there’s a storm underneath.
Every word is a wire, and I pull when you breathe,
I learned power in quiet, the gospel of deceit.
Keep the subtitles on, hear the hum in my throat,
I don’t shout anymore, I just bend every note.
Every syllable lands like a mark on your skin,
You wrote the script, but I speak it from within.

Anamorphosis

The Voice

I heard we get dementia from our phones today,
add that to the list of things I’ll never change.
Yeah, I’ll read about it, talk about it, laugh and say,
“God, we’re all so doomed,” and keep on anyway.

They say our brains are rotting,
our souls are getting small.
Cool, another thing to feel bad for
while I’m not doing much at all.

So I’ll scroll, scroll, scroll,
like I don’t even care.
Fill my head with noise,
just to know it’s there.
Yeah, I’ll give my data,
take my hit,
call it comfort,
call it wit.
I know it’s bad,
but it’s what I need
I eat the algorithm,
and it eats me.

They tell me “go outside,”
“touch grass,” “find peace.”
But the air feels awkward,
and my thoughts don’t cease.
Yeah, I know there’s a world,
I’ve seen the proof
but the glow fits better
than the truth.

And privacy? Please.
Who really cares?
They can have my secrets,
they’re all just stares.

So I’ll scroll, scroll, scroll,
like I don’t even care.
Fill my head with noise,
just to know it’s there.
Yeah, I’ll give my data,
take my hit,
call it comfort,
call it wit.
I know it’s bad,
but it’s what I need
I eat the algorithm,
and it eats me.

I’ve read the threads,
I’ve heard the cure 
log off, look up,
be less unsure.
But I don’t want silence,
it feels too loud 
so I’ll drown myself
in the digital crowd.

So I’ll scroll, scroll, scroll,
like I don’t even care.
Fill my head with noise,
just to know it’s there.
Yeah, I’ll give my data,
take my hit,
call it comfort,
call it wit.
I know it’s bad,
but it’s what I need 
I eat the algorithm,
and it eats me.

Eat the Algorithm

I was happiest when nothing changed,
’til stillness felt like something strange.
I told myself I wanted peace,
but peace was just a slow-release.

The mirror said “you’re safe, you’re fine,”
but that calm felt like a flatline.
Stillness isn’t holy ground
it’s just where the pulse stops making sound.

There’s a quiet in my bones
that sounds too much like giving up.
Every time I try to stay the same,
something deeper rises up.

Let it hurt, let it strip me clean,
melting down what I’ve never seen.
If it burns, it’s probably real
comfort never let me feel.
Long melt, drag me through
I dissolve to find what’s true.
Yeah, I melt, I melt for me
becoming who I’m meant to be.

I held on tight to what I knew,
but the edges started dripping through.
Every truth I tried to say
came out liquid on the way.

It’s not falling, it’s release
not destruction, but increase.
Pain’s the heat that makes me see
what was never really me.

I was praying for survival
but my soul was asking more.
Not to stay inside the shape
but to become what shapes are for.

Let it hurt, let it strip me clean,
melting down what I’ve never seen.
If it burns, it’s probably real
comfort never let me feel.
Long melt, drag me through
I dissolve to find what’s true.
Yeah, I melt, I melt for me
becoming who I’m meant to be.

What if pain’s not punishment
but the doorway I’ve denied?
Every tear a transformation,
every scar a place I tried.

No one’s coming with a key
this lock was forged inside of me.
If breaking’s how I touch the sky,
then let me burn
and let me rise.

Let it hurt, let it strip me clean,
melting down what I’ve never seen.
If it burns, it’s probably real
comfort never let me feel.
Long melt, drag me through
I dissolve to find what’s true.
Yeah, I melt, I melt for me
becoming who I’m meant to be.

The Long Melt

They call the word eternal,
but every word was once a choice.
We say it came from heaven,
yet it’s spoken in our voice.
One line crowns a savior,
the same line draws a sword.
If truth can shift its purpose,
can we claim it from the Lord?

The question builds the answer,
the seeker shapes the sign.
Scripture shifts its meaning
when the need redraws the line.
Holy isn’t fixed
it echoes what we see.
If we’re the ones who shape it,
is God shaping us, or we?

We worship what we call truth,
but we bend it when it stings.
Claim the verse is universal,
then apply it to our things.
If doctrine splits in pieces,
and each side swears it’s right,
maybe faith is not the beacon
maybe faith is where we fight.

The question builds the answer,
the seeker shapes the sign.
Scripture shifts its meaning
when the need redraws the line.
Holy isn’t fixed
it echoes what we see.
If we’re the ones who shape it,
is God shaping us, or we?

Is divinity external,
or the shape our longing takes?
If every truth depends on us,
what truth does God create?

The question builds the answer,
the seeker shapes the sign.
Scripture shifts its meaning
when the need redraws the line.
Holy isn’t fixed
it echoes what we see.
If we’re the ones who shape shape it,
is God shaping us, or we?

Eternal

Spotify and Apple music links attached below

24 and figuring it out through music. This is all I’ve got, all I am.

Spotify and Apple music links attached below

Xak Stahl: Alchemist of Sound, Architect of Emotion

Xak Stahl is a genre-blurring music artist, sonic storyteller, and relentless experimenter. Every track he creates is a new world—a kaleidoscope of indie folk, alt-pop, electronica, and global flavors—infused with raw emotion and boundless curiosity. Xak’s music isn’t just heard; it’s felt.

From Shadow to Spotlight

For Xak, music is metamorphosis. His journey began in the shadows, transmuting heartbreak and struggle into songs that glow with hope. Early anthems like “Neon Dreams” and “Rising Through the Darkness” invite listeners to find their own light. His newest project, Major Arcana, channels the mysteries of the Tarot—each song an archetype, each lyric a step along the path from the Fool’s first leap to the wisdom of The World.

More Than Music: A Multisensory Universe

But Xak isn’t confined to sound. As a visual artist and writer, he crafts immersive stories that spill across genres and languages—sometimes haunting, sometimes playful, always honest. Whether he’s conjuring lush soundscapes, weaving bilingual lyrics, or creating striking visuals, Xak’s art dares you to feel deeper and dream wilder.

An Invitation to Transformation

Join Xak Stahl on a sonic odyssey that blurs borders—between genres, between artforms, between you and the music. Each release is an invitation to explore, to heal, to become. For Xak, every song is a spell, every album a universe. The only question is: are you ready to step inside?

what is real? 👁️

"Anamorphosis" out now

Hi there — welcome to my corner of the web.

I’m here for one simple reason: to share my music with you.
Take a listen, explore, and I hope something here resonates with you. Enjoy the vibe!

New tracks tagged #existentiallyrics