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.
I am just one breath from a thousand voices19 November 2023
Courtesy pinterest.com
I am the vestige of a fake sermon
the redeemer of a so-called vermin
the fate of which they will determine
heads or tails, palms would examine
I am a slowly revived olive tree
My gentle farmers rekindle me
their dreams of liquid green honey
set in their dead eyes that no longer see
My fruit hangs on the West Bank
where every corner smells death dank
metal on their heads lands with a clank
they think my keepers they outrank
I am a call for prayer in their lost homes
to Jerusalem, Rome and all those golden domes
The mind of each in inner turmoil roams
as fire every inch of their land combs
I am just one breath from a thousand voices
seeping through clenched teeth’s brittle noises
exhaled from tight chests pressed in dead choices
while inhuman armada in kids’ blood rejoices
Reading of the poem:
I am becoming a Tree
My arms extended in calling
I branch out in verses
they are shiny fruits hanging
high and low in perspectives
alternating light and dark
I am becoming a Tree
My trunk plants its roots in a garden
I witness moss growing on my feet
they disappear softly within green
circles of brown dissolve within its sheen
Totem of tomorrow’s world sprouts
I am becoming a Tree
Wide branches from keen twigs
absorb the sunshine in waves
they cast no shadows on the seekers
gathering around my rivulets
My waters are shared with all
I am becoming a Tree
I am sunshine and rain
I gather feathers and fluff
as the nightbirds hold in me home
Sizzling thoughts in me roam
I bear the smooth and the rough
I am becoming a Tree
I climb giddily towards the skies
Though my roots coil me to the ground
in sweet harmonious belonging
my leaves rustle in the clouds
I am bustling prayers and shrouds
Reading of the poem:
Stormy times
The lightning runs free
breaks the tree
slow exchange
From wilderness will to change
rainbows cover me
I give light
A token of peace
within me
reaches out
A stirring fills me throughout
budding gift to flout
Eyelids stir
remembrance of days
when we were
twined relays
My feathers offer solace
I dwell within grace
Reading of the poem:
Peasant ennobled
exalted by the honours
raised head to adorn
The stern church endowed
a bishop to coronate
head shaking off dust
The stance handed down
raised wild bodies to enthrone
forsaken the crown
Feet in the gravel
pebbles thrown in old fountains
arm to unravel
Sanction renewal
erect a hanging treetop
enable embers
Jubilatory
settle platinum attire
rekindle fire
Induct strong the grit
molten powder raises flames
hanging tree now lit
Reading of the poem:
Bad Wolves - Zombie
Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly Haiku challenge using the words “crown”, “grit” and their synonyms. For more information or to read other poets’ contributions, please follow the link.
Petals multiply
In intervals of breathing
exhaling essence
My heart reaches out
seeking out the knowing mind
hidden in the eye
With careful fingers
I unveil the flower’s core
Myriads of colours
There are silent trees
tall yet minute they resume
growing in my heart
Winding through mazes
they teach me the wise lessons
of imbued stillness
We wait together
for the peace that was revealed
in branches of light
Reading of the poem:
The Valley of Dreams - Stive Morgan
Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly haiku challenge using the words “wait”, “wise” and their synonyms. For more information on the challenge and other artists’ work, please read here
The rhythm is that of the wind against the fallen leaves like a banshee wailing. Her mind syntonises with it finally as she picks up pieces of the shattered glass in front of her. There is no saying how much time the wind will continue to blow relentless. Her mind blows with the wind, flying high in the sky gathering momentum. At the same time her body continues to mechanically operate on its own. She carefully stacks the pieces of shattered glass in front of her and starts her daily work of repairing the window pane again.
She must have repaired it a hundred times yet every sunrise, the storm strikes at the same place again with the tree breaking through the window instantly killing her husband yet another time. Every day she wakes up again with the agony of knowing that she will again witness the scene of her husband’s death. The torture of knowing that initially numbed by the pain of his horrific death all she will be able to do is pick up the pieces of the shattered glass and start repairing the window as if to negate that it happened at all pursues her daily. She lives dreading the moment of initial sunshine which once made both her husband and her so happy.
She realises that she will never be able to grieve the loss of her husband as by the time she has finished repairing the window it is night time again and she falls asleep, exhausted. The first days that it happens, she does not remember exactly what has occurred but is only left with a sense of foreboding. Upon waking up that sense of foreboding slowly grows throughout the first week although it remains quite hazy. As time goes by , however, memories of the day before play back with excruciating precision.
She usually wakes up already knowing what will happen and totally helpless as she watches the events unfold. All she can do is repair the window in a wild and desperate hope that the next time, maybe at least once, it will not give way as the tree comes crashing through. Some days she would work her fingers sore until the nails almost peel and her fingers bleed and yet the next morning she would wake up to perfectly manicured fingers, her stomach tense with the knowledge of the oncoming onslaught.
Her mind soars higher as her fingers work swiftly repairing the window pane. She feels the moment when the night descends softly around her body that falls back on the bed. She watches as she lies almost lifeless her breath ragged as she struggles to overcome the sleepiness. Yet the slumber slowly overcomes her and her breath becomes more peaceful. It is the darkest point of the night now. Soon the killer dawn will strike again. She watches the body of her husband turn around and embrace her body.
Something inside her chest expands and she feels it stirring her body as she looks onward. The sun is about to rise and the winds are still howling. Her mind continues its wild jig with the winds. She knows that as the sun rises the storm will pick up strength and the tree will fall over breaking through the window pane. Her mind stills itself as the winds continue howling. The first rays of the sun pierce the horizon.
She opens wide her mouth and as it slowly rises she finally swallows the sun and the storm slowly loses its strength. Darkness falls all around as heat scorches her mind. She can feel the light exploding throughout her skull. She clenches her jaws as her mind maintains its stranglehold on the sun. The tree never moves again. She rolls her tongue softly over the blisters on her tongue. In the darkness beside her she can hear the soft breath of her husband. She utters a soft sigh and turns toward him holding him tight.
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