You watched me become a hundred strangers,

Each one shaped by your malevolent will.

I walked through woodland, I strode through the glade,

Seeking the spell that your presence had made.

I am not demon, nor an angel for sure,

Yet something far older, more raw, more pure.

You’ll know who I am when I walk through your door,

Not by my face, but the cold at your core.

I am the fear your dreams never name,

The voice in the silence that kindles a flame.

I move like a ghost through chambers of thought,

Unravelling truths that the daylight had fought

You wanted a mystery, now you have me,

An enigma of fire, of wind, and of sea.

Not yours to possess, not easy to trust,

But I bloom in the dark, where nothing is just.