Stratacore Echo

[Verse 1]
The dark shard of a USB, a quiet weight in hand,
Holds seismic tremors, a soundscape uncommanded.
Under a film of desert dust, a buried current sleeps,
A raw, unpolished echo, from strata buried deep.
It waits like a forgotten language, etched in silicon veins,
A pre-Cordillera memory, through all the arid rains.

[Chorus]
The demo hums a shadow, a mirage on the plain,
A jagged silent promise, in an abandoned strain.
Its deep electric current, still running through the ground,
A defiant, dark vibration, without a single sound.

[Verse 2]
I feel the dry earth pulse again, beneath that static drone,
The same wind whispers through these chords, a seed that wasn't sown.
Each note a fault line, etched in time, a future never known,
A mountain range of might-have-beens, in silence overthrown.
The phantom feedback whispers, a truth that cuts so keen,
From bedrock dreams that shattered, on an unlit, distant scene.

[Bridge]
This isn't longing, just a hum, a resonant decay,
A tender ache of bedrock truths, refusing to give way.
It's the dark heart of the pre-Cordillera, demanding its own day,
A raw, unyielding echo, that will never fade away.

[Outro]
Still whispers from the stratacore.
Unsafe, unyielding, evermore.