He remembered the night the melody first came to him. He was standing on the Galata Bridge, watching the dark water of the Golden Horn swirl beneath him. A stranger had been playing a ney flute nearby—a haunting, hollow sound that seemed to pull at the secrets people kept hidden behind their city-hardened stares.

Berk closed his eyes, pressed play, and let the depth take him. AI responses may include mistakes. Learn more

The title wasn't just a hook; it was a confession. Translated, it meant "The issue is deep," and for Berk, it felt like drowning in an ocean of unspoken truths.

He wanted them to find a mirror for their own "deep issues," a reminder that even in the darkest, deepest waters, there is a rhythm that keeps us moving toward the light.