It is the end of summer. As the leaves trace back patterns of the wind and gravity commits the high to the low, The Crux kneel beside a ditch.
It is almost Autumn again. The band of minstrels peer into the grave and peel back their memories. The last year has been an epic drama of friends and strings, beginnings and ends. Summer witnessed the creation of an album (to be released soon), and the stomping climax of an Insect Carnival. The cool winds call forth a new wave of creation. It is time to ferment, to sink, and so The Crux gather around this simple ditch. This crack in the earth. It could be a gold-mine, or of course it could lead to Hell.

Yet, there is an Orphean rumor... A riddle of stomps and cheer... There are songs deep in this pit, some say... And so,the The Crux step in...

To death or the deep!

-The Crux