In the silence of my sacred height,

I sought the solace of stars at night.

Yet shadows linger, they creep, they call,

From the stillness rises their endless thrall.

“Where has my lonesomeness flown?” I cry,

As mountains swarm and voices vie.

What is the cost of this fleeting peace?

When shadows chase, will my seeking cease?

“I am your shadow, your past, your pain,

The echo of doubts you can’t contain.

Will you face me, or will you flee?

In my reflection, can you see thee?”

I am the wanderer, weary and worn,

From every anchor, I’ve been torn.

On mirrors I’ve slept, in the coldest snows,

Where the winds forget, and the silence grows.

O Zarathustra, I walked in your wake,

Through forbidden paths for your own sake.

What remains of me but this hollow cry?

What is a shadow, but to follow and die?

“Are you my shadow, or am I yours?

A mirror of fears behind closed doors.

What do I lose when I run from thee?

What must I gain to set myself free?”

"To flee the shadow is folly’s path,

For every step circles back at last.

What is cast in light must learn its place,

For even shadows bear truth’s embrace."

(Orchestral crescendo swells into driving rhythms)

“Why do you flee when I am your guide?

I carry the truths you leave outside.

In every dark, a lesson lies,

In every fall, the phoenix flies.”

“You are my weight, my tethered chain,

A lingering whisper of old refrain.

But if I face you, what will I find?

Will I lose my soul, or heal my mind?”

“Not all truths wound, not all scars burn,

Some lessons rise when the shadows turn.

To love your shadow is to become whole,

To reconcile both heart and soul.”

Ah, Zarathustra, I am the dust,

Blown by winds of time and trust.

Once I followed with faith and fire,

Now I wander without desire.

What is a goal when the heart is cold?

What is a home when no hand to hold?

Eternal nowhere, eternal in vain,

Shall I dissolve in this shadow’s shame?

“Come, shadow, we will not divide,

Through fire and darkness, I’ll not hide.

What is the self, if not its whole?

Light and shadow shape the soul.”

The shadow stands, its voice grows still,

A specter shaped by broken will.

Yet in its depths, a spark remains,

The seed of truth from endless pains.

I see myself in its hollowed gaze,

The sum of steps through life’s long maze.

What is a shadow, if not my guide,

A darker truth where my fears reside?

“I am the shadow, the light, the flame,

Together we rise, unbroken, untamed.

Through endless cycles, we find the whole,

For shadow and light are one in the soul.”

“I am the shadow, the light, the flame,

Together we rise, unbroken, untamed.

Through endless cycles, we find the whole,

For shadow and light are one in the soul.”

So I walk with shadow by my side,

Through mountains high and oceans wide.

To flee no more, to stand, to see,

The shadow within is part of me.

Thus Spoke Zarathustra!