When the Darkness Knows My Name

(Verse 1) I’ve spent so many nights in the quiet that the darkness moves like an old friend. Not comforting, not warm — just familiar enough to stop pretending I’m untouched. There’s a point where silence starts recognizing you, where the weight you carry echoes back like someone calling from far away. (Pre-Hook) You don’t fear the dark once it learns who you are. (Hook) When the darkness knows my name — nothing feels the same. It sees the battles in my chest, the thoughts I never tame. I walk through shadows unafraid, too tired to feel shame. When the darkness knows my name — it respects the man I became. (Verse 2) There were nights I begged for light just to quiet the noise in my head. But the darkness didn’t give mercy — it gave me truth instead. It showed me every scar, every choice, every ghost I tried to bury. And somehow, facing all of that made me steady. (Pre-Hook) You become a different kind of strong when the night stops intimidating you. (Hook) When the darkness knows my name — cold breath, steady flame. It tests me without warning, but I rise all the same. I’m not who I was before, and nothing stays the same. When the darkness knows my name — I walk deeper without blame. (Bridge) Some men fear the night because they’ve never sat inside it long enough to hear themselves clearly. I had no choice. The darkness simply stayed until I finally listened. (Final Hook) When the darkness knows my name — not fragile, but refined. Every hardship shaped my posture, every trial trained my mind. Now I step through quiet shadows, every breath a forward sign: When the darkness knows my name — the night no longer owns my spine. (Fade: low haunting blues riff, distant echo, slow deep inhale in a dark room)