I hear you through the storm’s decay, through shattered stone and frozen clay. No one sees the path I tread, but your words carve where I am led. You do not shout, you do not need, you whisper — and the mountains bleed. My heartbeat bends to ancient sound, that rises from the buried ground. You say: “Come closer…” And the world goes still. I follow the voice from the depths below, the only truth I’ll ever know. It tears the sky, it breaks the night, it calls the fallen into light. If I must fall, let it be free… for the voice from the depths speaks through me. Black birds circle over my name, the wind repeats it just the same. The earth opens its hollow hands, like it has waited through the sands. No fear remains inside my chest, only the call I can’t resist. Each step I take toward the gate, feels like I’m meeting my own fate. I gave you doubt. You gave me flame. I gave you soul. You gave me name. Now there is no return… I follow the voice from the depths below, until the sun forgets to glow. Let the heavens lose my trace, let my name dissolve in space. When the final star is gone… it is not me who speaks alone… …it is the dark that speaks through me. “You thought the voice came from the dark…” “But the dark has no voice…” “It only borrows yours.” “And when you speak…” “It is already too late.”
“Voice from the Depths” is about being drawn toward a mysterious inner voice that feels impossible to resist. What begins as an external call gradually becomes part of the narrator, revealing that the darkness was never truly speaking to him—it was using his own voice all along.