The night drapes itself in rain, murmuring secrets meant for those who refuse to rest. The cold creeps close, but some souls have long learned to burn against it.
Loyalty does not ask to be seen, does not beg to be heard. It is known, felt, and never questioned. I see it, I know it, and that is enough. They stand, as they always have.
You don’t write an album like this without losing something in the process. But maybe that’s the point. Some things are meant to be given away. So here it is—mine, for now. Soon, it’s yours to keep.