Lost in melody and sound waves we drift into another place. Like a subconscient coma we don’t want to wake from. Pulse falls into sync with rhythm and time. From the inside, waves of bliss press against our skin like waves from the ocean. Swelling our hearts and emptying our minds of despair. In that moment with the strike of the perfect chord we become free, unbreakable, unfazed. Discovering a new place of euphoria we never knew existed each time we drift away. Disregarding the world and our surroundings we escape to this place, to reflect. To quiet the chaos and become the founding architects of our dreams. In this place we build ships prepared for the horizon. Vessels built from scrap wood gathered on the coasts of broken hearts, iron made from pain, and sails sewn by ambition. Capsized ships hold the blueprints of previous attempts. But the architect sharpens the pen and redreams the design. Determined for the unknown that awaits beyond the horizon. Weathered captains with rusting anchors enlist from the other side sending messages from empty bottles stating… 

“We may sit on a throne of nothing, but we have conquered everything.”