It simmers beneath the surface. The tension builds with every bar, like an explosion long overdue. The sound is raw, unrelenting—soaked in frustration that doesn’t scream, just grows, circles, and grinds at your nerves. Everything in you wants to flinch, but somehow, this is exactly what you needed to hear. Vexed isn’t an attack. It’s a warning. And when it stops playing, it might already be too late.
