A bass voiced narrator turns a house into a reliquary of obsession, counting footsteps as time while refusing the dawn. Crushing riffs, organ, and choir drive a 136 B P M, C♯ minor gothic metal drama from violent intro to mournful fade.
A gothic heavy metal vigil where a bass voiced narrator haunts the space beside a sleeper, turning silence into a kingdom of unspoken words. Riffs, organ, and choir trace an arc from possessive certainty to unraveling grief, as memory fades and obsession outlives flesh.
A searing Act I I where dawn becomes a rival and the sun a thief, Jealous of the Morning Sun wields E‑minor gallops, organ and choir to score a bass voiced lament. Night keeps the secret; daylight steals it, as the narrator admits, “ I lose you twice,” and resigns to a world he cannot enter.
A Gothic Blues confessional where a bass–baritone claims a house as a living archive, not a haunting. Slow, ritualistic dynamics—organ, clean arpeggios, restrained heft—mirror lyrics that insist memory resides in wood and silence, turning erasure into belonging.
A myth forged symphonic metal parable, The Smith's Tale turns the craft of making into a meditation on responsibility. With a rich contralto and cinematic swells, it charts awe, ruin, and remorse, insisting that true power lies in creation—and in the maker’s unshakable duty to answer for the flame.
