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I walked the hall of mirrors, looking for the face

That whispered accusations from some hidden place

I searched the burning garden, I combed the frozen shore

Until I found the stranger standing at my door

And he wore my eyes like lanterns

He spoke my voice like rain

The demon I’d been running from

Was calling out my name

I am the wound, I am the wine

The serpent coiled around the vine

I am the lock, I am the key

The one who binds and sets me free

The devil at the crossroads, the angel in the storm

I wear the face of shadow and I keep the dreamer warm

The light came down like judgment, burning through the night

It poured itself to nothing trying to win the fight

But darkness isn’t absence—it’s the womb where stars are born

The soil that holds the seedling, the silence before the horn

And I saw the blazing armies

Exhaust their golden spears

While the patient void remained

Unchanged across the years

I am the wound, I am the wine

The serpent coiled around the vine

I am the lock, I am the key

The one who binds and sets me free

The devil at the crossroads, the angel in the storm

I wear the face of shadow and I keep the dreamer warm

The light consumes itself to shine

The darkness simply holds the line

What burns must turn to ash and fade

But night was never made to be afraid

So lay your judgment down now, let the torches rest

The guardian and tempter share a single chest

The fire needs the darkness just to know it’s bright

And I have learned to love the keeper of my night

I am the question, I’m the prayer

The hollow and the fullness there

The voice that damns, the hand that saves

The one who digs and fills the graves…​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​