Path of a Shadow: The Prelude
Lost in an ocean of terror and dishonour, you realize you are nothing but alone.
You fall to your knees, whispering along the breeze, but the waves do not even reach you.
You reach out to the stars, but they move further away.
You swim and swim, but you drown until you decide to rise from the waters.
Lit by the moon, you glisten in glory as you see me reflected on the sands you once hated.
Unlike the waves that ignore, my support outpours.
Unlike the stars that turn back, I’ll keep you safe from the pack
of wolves that desire to devour you and have you gated.
I am your Shadow, and this is my path.
A journey that starts with you and concludes our wrath.
They say ignorance is bliss, but I say to know is better than to dismiss.
Now hear me!
Path Of The Shadow!
I watched you emerge, an honest person – both vulnerabilities and strengths divulged. You promised me something, and I followed to verify, whether you lie or abide, and I am satisfied. “What You See - Vad Du Ser is what you get,” you tell me as you bask in reflected glory. We are both shining with the awareness of your true self, impurities and all. You walk out the door to proudly face the world. I am with you.
With passion at arm’s reach, you broke free from the shackles and grabbed it without hesitations. The Berserker’s thirst was passed on to you, it overflew and did not cease. You have finally been able to set your mind on what you desire, and truly enough you never tire. Everybody talks and so you walk up to them and scream “No One Can Hear You! -Ingen Som Hör Dig” Not that you’re full of it, you know, you are it. Drunk in fulfillment, you run out with a smug smile. I am following you.
Your success was their failure, and your fame was their shame. Those whom you did trust are now covered in rust. And someone you loved, couldn’t stand you rising above. Despite the wounds they inflict, you remain at the peak.
At the top of your lungs, you scream “I am Untouchable -Osårbar ” – and the thunder roars back in agreement. Although being alone used to scare you, you’re now aware that there’s only a select few who celebrate your successes, and boost you when you fail. They worship you in your fame, and embrace you when you’re ashamed. I’m one of the few who stay and admire.

Yet some nights were longer, and the darkness lingered. All fears, blood, sweat, and tears creeped in; they swept you off your feet and threw you into the mysterious dungeons of misery. You kept getting crushed until you suddenly felt a rush and heard the wedding bells in hell. You rise up from the ashes as your whole life flashes before you. The glimmer made you realize that you have succeeded. You are “Beaten But Not Dead - Nere Men Inte Död. With a chuckle at the thought, you unbuckle the collars of Cerberus. We all wander off because we never belonged there.
A life dominated by highs and rid of insufferable lows, you developed an illusion that you must strive for more. With your jealousy revealing as you lurked around the village, they all locked their doors in fear that you might devour every last bit of passion at their core. Holding nothing but a dagger in gold, you returned to your abode, grandiosity embellished with thorny roses.
You lit the fireplace as you look around to see everything that amazes an average individual, but you want more, no “Even more - Ännu Mer”. You remember how this brought joy into your life. And to me you tell the story, of how you are truly satisfied. I envelop you in a frail embrace and say, “Hope it was a fun ride, you have lost your lovers and friends because all you wanted was to win” and to the revelation you break down and cry – eventually admitting that you have lied. We both sight in exhaustion.

From the beginning until the end, through the storm and when it’s bent, I went with you. And when passion overflew, you strived for the skies and so you grew, I followed you. You play the lyre with melodies of your ire on how much people talk, I’m one of the few who admire. When only dire foreshadowing of nights that tired transpired, you cry and try to be who you really desire. You bring me with you in that liberating ride.
But after all you want more. They slam the door and you fall to the floor in agony for your lost vitality, we both sight in exhaustion. And so, you see right here and there – that moonlit moment in the shallow – I have always been “The Shadow - Skuggan” through your despair and in your flair.
So, hear me out when I shout and tell you not to be astounded when they call you, draw you near, and say “Come Here - Komm her” to entice you. You have to choose what’s best for you. Where you can find the true you. It wouldn’t be under the control of the savage; a drastic choice is something you couldn’t salvage. For only when you find your soul, can you ever get out of the rabbit hole. Act in ways you can comprehend, only break what you can mend. And never forget to send the message of your purposeful journey.
If all goes well for you and me, at least we don't have to be regretful of the past. Because we know that all heavy sighs, and every troubled, humbled, cry, are for good reasons and not for treason. For when you’re gone, the sun will shine its brightest to commemorate the glory of your life’s greatest mysteries. You weave your own story. You dove deep enough to keep a memory of that fine day when you grabbed passion by its neck – throwing away the tarot deck and finally free from the manipulation. Not withheld even by a speck. I wouldn’t have to ask ”Where Are You Now - Var Är Du Nu” because I know you have found peace in your own hands. Without the slightest hollowness, I celebrate your ripe success. For I am your Shadow – And I am Always Around!