AMETHYST HOUR (by Fanny Alexandra) [Verse 1] You arrived in ultraviolet, half prophecy, half cigarette. Purple halo over your head, like God forgot what mourning meant. The room dissolved to velvet blur, your voice moved slow like syrup words. You touched my wrist and suddenly my pulse forgot the earth. I knew better than to romanticize a love with funeral-colored eyes— but amethyst was once believed to keep the faithful sober-minded. Funny how I drank you anyway. ⸻ [Pre-Chorus] You said, “Heaven’s just a state of ache,” then kissed me like a beautiful mistake— ⸻ [Chorus] Amethyst hour, violet haze, you turned my mercy into a maze. Holy light through broken glass, everything sacred shattered back. You wore devotion like a flower, I worshipped you in amethyst hour. Now every midnight bruises blue— the color of almost losing you. Amethyst hour… Amethyst hour… ⸻ [Verse 2] We spoke in smoke and second meanings, in fragile little acts of leaving. Your hands knew every hidden door inside the cathedral of my thinking. You loved me in selective focus, soft enough to almost notice. Like a prayer unfinished mid-sentence, hanging in the air beside us. I kept translating all your distance into something saint-like, something different. But halos are just light behaving around a thing already burning. ⸻ [Pre-Chorus] You said, “Nothing gold survives the dawn,” then held me like you’d soon be gone— ⸻ [Chorus] Amethyst hour, violet haze, you turned my body into a place where every wound looked beautiful, every goodbye looked merciful. You wore devotion like a flower, I built a shrine to every hour. Now all my shadows turn your hue— deep purple mourning stitched in blue. Amethyst hour… Amethyst hour… ⸻ [Bridge] They used to wear amethyst in crowns to guard the mind from going under. But you kissed me in cathedral light and turned restraint into hunger. Maybe love was never holy— just two ruins trying not to feel lonely. Still… I’d let your ghost undo me slowly. ⸻ [Final Chorus] Amethyst hour, soft decay, you made catastrophe look graceful in the low-lit rain. Stained-glass heartbeat, cracked divine, your fingerprints still blur my mind. You were twilight dressed as power, I was the girl who stayed for hours inside the glow of something doomed, watching beauty bruise the room. And if forever’s just a word we press into what almost worked— then I’ll still taste your name like wine every time the sky turns violet at night. Amethyst hour… Amethyst hour… ⸻ [Outro] Some gems are born beneath immense pressure. Some loves only survive as color.
