In floating – AI Song (Cinematic, Dark Folk, Indie Versions) | Suno AI (my lyrics, my voice) 13 May 2026
Image credit: Freepik.com
## 🧠 ABOUT THE PROCESS
I transformed this original poem by adapting it into lyrics that were then used for an AI-generated song using Suno, featuring my voice. Below you’ll find part of the original poem, the revised lyrics, and the AI-generated musical version.
## 📜 ORIGINAL POEM
This poem reflects upon the inner dissolution the mind may need to undergo in order to attain deeper knowledge of the true self through the disintegration of the false self. It presents the self as part of a greater spiritual hierarchy symbolised by the “Tree of Life,” to which the constructed ego is gradually sacrificed. Through confrontation with inner demons, surrender to the soul’s teachings and attention to the wisdom carried within the heart, the poem explores transformation as a painful but necessary process of alignment, renewal and awakening.
Lost in thought Grey tendrils that sink Absorbed ink I spill mind Windmills within me unwind As the will decays
[Verse] Lost in thought, grey tendrils that sink my brain’s matter slow absorbed ink As the will decays, I spill mind The windmills within me unwind
[Verse] Tree’s branches reach out towards me Nourishing its roots I can’t flee Its bark stark pulses with my blood My beating heart is liquid flood
[Verse] Food for thought, self-preservation Sweat and toils increase pulsations The tree feasts upon the spoils winding flow does, undoes coils
[Chorus] Like nothing matters, the heart beats Renewal of mind, Soul repeats Shimmering of the blood coursing new life pervades me in floating
[Verse] The soul shoots at me, withered tame self-loss arrows across my frame The lions face my dark dungeons where breathed hard the hidden dragons
[Verse] Selves aligned face the roaring beasts Wilful surrender, random feats unknown mission of lone heroes standing misaligned in death rows
[Chorus] Like nothing matters, the heart beats Renewal of mind, Soul repeats Shimmering of the blood coursing new life pervades me in floating
## 🎧 AI SONG
Listen to how this poem transforms into music across different styles:
### 🎬 Cinematic version A cinematic interpretation emphasising atmosphere and emotional intensity. In floating – AI Cinematic Song | My Original Lyrics, My Voice (Suno AI)
### 🌾 Folk version A folk interpretation of the song, focusing on acoustic textures and a more intimate, stripped-down sound that highlights the lyrical and emotional core with a touch of dark. In floating – AI Folk Song | My Original Lyrics, My Voice (Suno AI)
### 🌿 Indie version An indie interpretation with a softer, reflective tone, incorporating plaintive cello and violin sounds for a distinctive darker indie sound. In floating – AI Indie Song | My Original Lyrics, My Voice (Suno AI)
## 🎼 ABOUT THESE VERSIONS
This piece has been interpreted across multiple musical styles using Suno AI, exploring how the same lyrics evolve through Cinematic, Dark Folk and Indie influences.
Dissolution time – AI Song (Blues, Gospel, Indie, Versions) | Suno AI 14 April 2026
Image credit: Freepik.com
## 🧠 ABOUT THE PROCESS
I transformed this original poem by adapting it into lyrics that were then used for an AI-generated song using Suno, featuring my voice. Below you’ll find part of the original poem, the revised lyrics, and the AI-generated musical version.
## 📜 ORIGINAL POEM
This poem explores themes of witchcraft, spellwork and acquisition of second sight leading to understanding of alternate realities.
Mind racking Shelves of solutions Magic books Sever hooks Tales twisted by clever crooks Opportunities
[Verse] Mind racks shelves of solutions Magic books contributions Tales twisted by clever crooks Opportunities breed hooks
[Verse] Spell woman code in heart’s light Spirit spells nothing to fight Only the heart shines bright through The key to skies in the clue
[Chorus] All the magic in the rhyme where the quakes meet pantomime shudders replicating chime minds set dissolution time
[Verse] Eye sees spark within sorrows The heart sees only morrows Crossing over skulls and bones into new alleys of stones
[Verse] Shake hard dreamtime creation I breed minstrels’ elation Wilting bard now composes more than the feat of Moses
[Chorus] All the magic in the rhyme where the quakes meet pantomime shudders replicating chime minds set dissolution time
[Verse] Set in skies, we have our ways Chimera Bellerophon slays splitting they shatter the lies breaking all the earthly ties
[Verse] Brittle ends beginning death slow promise of pining breath Frantic measures peak at noon future world granted as boon
[Chorus] All the magic in the rhyme where the quakes meet pantomime shudders replicating chime minds set dissolution time
## 🎧 AI SONG
Listen to how this poem transforms into music across different styles:
### 🎸 Blues version A blues interpretation emphasising raw emotion and expressive character. Dissolution time – AI Blues Song | My Original Lyrics, My Voice (Suno AI)
### 🙏 Gospel version A gospel-inspired version focusing on expressive phrasing and spiritual depth. Dissolution time – AI Gospel Song | My Original Lyrics, My Voice (Suno AI)
### 🌿 Indie version An indie interpretation with a softer, reflective tone, incorporating Asian instruments for a distinctive sound. Dissolution time – AI Indie Song | My Original Lyrics, My Voice (Suno AI)
## 🎼 ABOUT THESE VERSIONS
This piece has been interpreted across multiple musical styles using Suno AI, exploring how the same lyrics evolve through Blues, Gospel and Indie influences.
Pencil drawings of women on blue and orange paper 25 October 2025
After lunch and while waiting for electricity to be set up in the reiki and pranic building I had installed in the garden, I decided to draw a couple of female faces to add to those I had already drawn beforehand. I had a portrait of a woman on blue paper and one on orange paper so decided to add one of each today. I plan on having these framed and hung just above the bed in the main bedroom. For the bedroom where my stepdaughter stays on weekends, I am waiting to have her put her own artwork so did not do anything else than furnishing it.
In the corridor I had some of the papyrus paintings I bought in Egypt last year put up and the third bedroom upstairs would house the paintings and other artwork of my daughter Léa. The fourth bedroom downstairs would have either some more of the papyrus paintings or some other artist’s work. In the living/dining room, I had already hung works of Shakeel he painted in 2013 and the paintings are quite big so six of them have covered the whole room which is around 7 m x 4 m
It had been a while since I had drawn with pencils so the drawings are not my best but I think they will do for the place I have destined them to go onto. Even though my hand was not up to the mark, I enjoyed drawing these sketches and look forward to using some of the acrylic painting I just bought from Amazon to paint as it has been years since I painted in acrylic. There is a big mirror above the desk in the main bedroom, and I plan on painting some boat scenes in pastel blues to go with the headboard of the bed which is dark blue. I hope I soon find time to start these paintings as it has been difficult to find time with my busy schedule between work, daily chores, healing of others and just me-time to relax and resource.
I leave you with some music that I was listening to before and after drawing these female portraits.
For the longest time ever, I have felt I have no kinship with Earth and it felt like a foreign land. Even in my childhood, I would look up at the stars and know in my heart that my true home was out there and I was the proverbial “million miles from home”. As a young child I did not have many friends and tended to always sit on my own when there were breaks at the school I was going to. It was called the Good Shepherd Convent and was, as you could guess, a school for female students only. My parents were of opposing religions and from countries that did not see eye to eye with each other. He was a Tamilian black Indian Hindu and she was a white Tunisian Muslim. They couldn’t have been further apart and their life together was a story in itself but I might talk about that later.
As a teenager, I still had that yearning feeling to go back home but I was able to mask it better and was sociable enough to make friends although I could count them on one hand. The friends I made, I was very loyal to and shared a deep connection with. Later on, as a young woman in a University in Nabeul this was still the case. At University, I tended to embrace what others called lost causes and one of them consisted of a direct clash with a special group of Muslim brotherhood called “Ekhwan Al Jihad” or the brothers of the Jihad (holy war). These people, whose shortened name was “Khwanjia” for all of us Tunisians resisting their backward rules and oppression, had gained a disproportionate level of power and Bourguiba, the President at that time, did not seem able to easily get rid of the hold they had – something that Ben Ali had been able to do after he orchestrated a coup against Bourguiba several years later.
Meanwhile, one of the higher level recruits of this brotherhood who lived on the same campus, had gotten besotted with me and decided I was to become his wife. He was very surprised at my resistance and later on, he joined those who would stop us from going to the University in our western attire and threw the large and heavy lid of a dustbin at me in one of his hate-fuelled acts against me. We were all wearing just jeans and normal sweatshirts or shirts that were buttoned to the top but they could not bear the sight of us, refusing to cover our heads and wear long dresses or skirts instead of what they perceived as “figure-hugging, male-enticing jeans from hell”.
There were other happenings where this madman tried to hurt me but I evaded most of the time his hateful attacks. I then changed University to go to ENSI in Tunis, a University for IT engineers but decided to leave after two years because the level of power and hate-fuelled acts of the Khwanjia had gotten too much to bear. With my very Hindu name of Geetha which related to the Bhagavat Gita, one of the holiest books in Hinduism, I stood a lot to lose if the Khwanjia were to seek me out and do God knows what to me. My path had always been one of peaceful resistance but that did not stop them from beating us, attempting to tear our hair out of our heads or throwing stones and other large objects at us.
I finally left for Geneva rather than Paris because I felt I could not handle Paris after being in such a small place as Tunis. Geneva was a lovely quiet town which I enjoyed living in a lot even though the immigration rules were quite tough in order to get there. Throughout the time in Tunis as a young woman, it had always been about resistance and avoiding getting into trouble with the Khwanjia so I had not thought much about my ultimate goals but as the quiet of Geneva seeped into me, my previous levels of extraneity took over and I started to feel homesick again, wanting to be out there in the stars.
Life took over while I still stayed firmly entrenched in my dreams of going to sleep and waking up in a planet I could call home again. I went through two marriages and had children from my second marriage whom I loved more than myself to the point of concentrating all my energy on them and almost feeling at home on Earth. Things had gone awry with my first husband because the values we lived by were at odds and he had issues he had never disclosed to me before our marriage. Things went awry with my second marriage as well leaving me in a situation where I was taking care of my children almost single-handedly and our expenses as well as the tax situation were making our financial situation stretched and our relationship as tense as it could ever be.
A break came in the form of a posting I was given in Dubai in 2007, where I was told there were no taxes on income and it seemed like a good idea to go there and at least ease the financial burden on us. Initially, my ex-husband was supposed to come and see if this could change things and he did come to visit in September 2007 but he did not want to lose his position as a Partner in the law firm he was working at so he decided not to join us, after which I decided to file for divorce in the fall of 2008.
In Dubai, I gained more financial freedom initially and was able to start reading again, not having to clean up everything and have to always cook like I was doing during my time with my second husband. I had a cook and a maid taking care of everything that needed to be taken care of. It was lovely to be able to keep my mind occupied with more than just my work and the children’s needs and I started even envisaging to write again. Suddenly things got out of hand in 2010 and I then created a blog to report most of what was happening, share literary produce such as poems and short stories I wrote or share my artwork. What happened from that fated date of August 12, 2010 (note that my birthday is August 12) is mostly laid out in my blog so I will not reiterate what I already wrote. This break in my life, though deeply disturbing and painful, brought out the spiritual side of me again and all that I had been thinking about during my teenage years and as a young woman began to take shape again.
After 2010 I became involved in several charitable endeavours and worked towards trying to make the Earth a better place, one person at a time, changing the sides of myself I felt did not sit well with the person I wanted to be. So many things happened, the culmination of which pushed me to the path of healing which I embraced wholeheartedly starting first with the study of Pranic healing after having experienced healing people with just the healing touch – later on, I became a Reiki Master and worked with Bach flowers remedies. The more I healed people, the more I felt myself being drawn into what I perceived as myself roaming the Earth in sleep, healing others in my dreams. At one point in Dubai, while I was doing a distance healing I felt inclined to create an energy pattern that was all around me. This became a daily work and I was given to know that I was building a Merkabah using Indian mudras.
Several months later, the Merkabah was apparently ready and I experienced in my dreams what I later understood were astral travels. I did not remember much of those travels which I relegated to the dream world so as to keep my drive to work and take care of my children during the daytime. As the years passed by, I started having the conviction that I had to build more points of energy in the Merkabah so that it could work for much longer distances. This was achieved in January 2017 and I experienced a great deal of light entering my body after which my astral travels became clearer. After a few days, around end January, however, I realised that the Merkabah had been ruined and I could not get back to weaving it.
The points of energetic alignment using mudras were no longer leading anywhere as if my mind could not make them properly anymore. My Merkabah had truly been broken beyond repair and I could do nothing about it as my correct weaving of mudras had been damaged. The years 2017 to 2019 dragged on until the passing of my mother in summer of 2019. Somehow, her demise triggered something that made my pattern of mudras able to align correctly to create the Merkabah again. I am still weaving slowly but surely and I know the Merkabah should be fully ready at least by 2026, perhaps for my birthday in that year to be a day of fulfilled hope again. I had fallen but I may just be able to go home and bask in blue again.
I decided to draw a picture of my mother after some grief work I had been doing in relation with the fact that I had not been much present at her side when she was alive. I had done some grief work earlier, closer to when she had passed, but that was in relation to my sorrow of losing her. What had not been achieved earlier, as I had not yet come to terms with it, was overcoming the grief that when she had been ill, I had not been present as I was busy raising my three children alone and had to overcome several hurdles, both financial and time-based. That special grief that had its roots in guilt, was much more complicated to overcome.
When I was doing this latest grief work, I had a very sharp sense of my mother talking to me, using my pet name, and felt her presence very vividly to the extent that I could feel her around me. It was just like how she would hug us when we were children or teenagers and I could feel her tangible presence around me like during those times. I remember now with nostalgia those moments and am irked by the fact that I would just tell her to stop squeezing me and would wriggle out of her tight hug then. As a teenager, I did, however, adore my mother and would always run to the shops to purchase what she asked me to and do all kinds of other errands for her.
My mother was my hero and throughout my life, even when I was not by her side, it was always her example that would lead me to make important decisions in my life. I never stopped working whether pregnant or taking care of my children while juggling a part-time then full-time job together with my higher studies. She always told us to never give up our jobs, to never give our partners control over our stipend and to always privilege the children over the partner because it was the children who needed protection.
She was a nurse and a wonderful one at that. Whenever I went to the hospital where she worked, countless patients would tell me what a great nurse she was. At some point she was taking care of burn victims and I wondered how she could stomach day after day all the difficult images she had to see and the wounds she had to tend to. She was a beautiful person both outside and inside. I hope this portrait gives just an inkling of how beautiful she was.
And as always, mixing the visual, sometimes the spoken but always an audio of the moment, I give you a song which I was listening to when I got the inspiration to draw the portrait.
I had joined a facebook group for beginners in pencil drawings and chanced upon a photograph yesterday that I found intriguing. It was shared by a member of the group who had attempted to replicate it in a drawing and was successful to an extent. I realized that it was a difficult image as it lacked symmetry, and many features had a downward trend increasing the complexity of the drawing to be made.
I decided to draw it myself today to see whether I could replicate, to a point, the photograph. I started off with a coloured paper and regretted it as there were highlights that would have normally been done with a white pencil but this was not possible with the coloured paper. I still thought it would make sense to use the white pencil for the highlights and the effect is a strange mixture of realism and cartoon-like impressions where the white pencil markings were made. I hope you like it all the same. I will also post this on the facebook group.
And as always, mixing the visual, sometimes the spoken but always an audio of the moment, I give you a song which I was listening to while drawing.
Pencil drawing by me
The below is the photograph used as reference for the drawing
Prayers of the days, struggle of illusions 19 February 2025
Courtesy freepik.com
Translation of a poem in Arabic that I wrote on 15 May 2011 and that I had never translated before. I am providing below the English translation the original poem with a small correction. There are probably other small grammatical errors that I would not have noticed.The previous poem was published here دعاء الأيام، كفاح ألأوهام | Geetha Balvannanathan's Blog - Isis Tratum
If only I were a scream to flirt with your lips as I rise from them springing free, forgetting silence
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If only I were a rock to roll between your hands as I oppose your ways against happiness resilient, bound, committed to stillness
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If only I were a chick to hide between your wings as I look out from them satisfied and calm, yours until I die
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If only I were pride to support the pulse between your ribs as I help you store the air a loyal owner, extracting sorrows
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Today, from your rib I am renewed, a sorceress, Eve and from my rib, none can remove you neither past grudges nor annihilation
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I am the scream of the steadfast rock so forget, Sisyphus, that I should roll I am the pride of the chick for its mother my days' tears flowed like rivers
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I am every mother who called in the dark the stones were shattered by my screams I am what escaped the death of dreams the wells filled with the blood of my veins
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Look to the oncoming spring for it bears the seed of my flowers Put on the garment of the regretful autumn for it is too late to oppress me
دعاء الأيام، كفاح الأوهام 2011-05-15
ليتني صرخة كي أغازل شفتيك و أنا أرتفع منهما منطلقة حرَة ناسية السُكوت
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ليتني صخرة كي أتكركب بين يديك و أنا أعارض طرقك ضدَ الهناء صامدة مقيَدة ملتزمة بالسُكون
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ليتني فرخ كي أتخبَأ بين جناحيك و أنا أطلُ منها راضية هادئة، لك إلى أن أموت
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ليتني فخر أساند النَبض بين ضلعيك وأنا أساعدك على تخزين الهواء مالكة وافية منتزعة للشجون
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أنا اليوم من ضلعك تجدَدت ساحرة حوَاء و من ضلعي ما أمكن نزعك لا الحقد الماضي و لا الفناء
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أنا صرخة الصخرة الصَامدة فإنس يا سيزيف أن أستدار أنا فخر الفرخ للأم الوالدة سال دمع أيامي سيل الأنهار
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أنا كل أم نادت في الظلام تحطمت بصرختي الأحجار أنا ما نجى من موت الأحلام إمتلأت بدم عروقي الآبار
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أنظر إلى الربيع القادم فهو يحمل زرع زهري إرتد ثوب الخريف النادم فقد فات الأوان عن قهري
Reading of the translation in English of the original Arabic poem:
Reading of the original Arabic poem (most likely with some grammar mistakes)
There is little to do where I live because I do not know my surroundings yet so I have resorted to my old passion of sketching mainly female portraits or nudes. In this instance it is just a pencil sketch of a female head using B, 6B and 8B pencils as well as a white sketching pencil. I have not taken out all the art supplies I bought so this simple sketch is what I can produce over the coming months.
I have been eyeing some watercolour paint and might end up buying some even though I am in a temporary lodging and should not increase too much what I have to move again. It is just that trying watercolours seems so enticing given that it has always been quite challenging for me. Indeed, I tend to want to improve whatever I find challenging and have time and time again chosen to dwell upon something that I did not have a natural knack for and turned things around to become at least proficient in that, be it art, literature or something involving ordinary skills. I hope to be able to produce a nice watercolour once I give into the enticement of buying those watercolours. In the meantime, I hope you like the pencil sketch I am including here.
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