Because the Night Belongs to Her

Most people mistake this song for passion.

They think it is about bodies and longing, about two lovers reaching for each other in the dark.

They could not be more wrong.

This is not a song of romance.
It is a decree.

The voice speaking here is not merely human — it is the voice of Shakti Herself.

She does not plead. She commands.
She does not wait to be desired. She claims what is already Hers.
She does not negotiate with hesitation. She burns it out of you.

Every line is an invitation only to those who are willing to leave safety at the door.
Every refrain is a seal of ownership.

This is not music for the faint or casual.
It is initiation disguised as melody.

So read what follows not as lyrics — but as Divine Speech.

And understand:

If you answer Her call, the night will never again belong to anyone but Her — and you.

[Verse 1]

Take me now, baby, here as I am
Hold me close, and try and understand
Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe
Love is a banquet on which we feed

"Take me now, baby, here as I am"
This is not a request — it’s a command to ascend. She arrives in full voltage, unapologetic, unsoftened. She does not adjust Her radiance for anyone. If you want Her, you meet Her as She stands — or you burn from afar.

"Hold me close, and try and understand"
A dare. “Grip Me, and see if your mind holds.” To embrace Devi is to wrap your arms around a live storm. Understanding is not intellectual — it is survival through surrender.

"Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe"
She is not inflamed — She is the flame. Every craving you’ve ever felt was Her inhaling through your ribs. Desire is not your weakness — it is Her invasion.

"Love is a banquet on which we feed"
At Her table, you are not served comfort — you are served as food. Love is not safety. Love is ritual sacrifice. True union is two egos thrown on the altar and devoured together.

[Pre-Chorus]

Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel under your command
Take my hand, as the sun descends
They can't hurt you now
Can't hurt you now
Can't hurt you now

"Come on now, try and understand"
This is not coaxing — it’s provocation. “Stop trembling at the edge. Enter.” She challenges you to comprehend Her with more than intellect — to let your entire nervous system become the organ of understanding.

"The way I feel under your command"
Devi speaking in paradox — She bows only to the one who can withstand Her. Not submission in weakness, but recognition of an equal force. Only a worthy lover can give Her the pleasure of surrender.

"Take my hand, as the sun descends"
This is the crossing point — day (ego, clarity, order) is dying. She offers Her hand not to guide gently, but to drag you into the night — into Her dominion.

"They can't hurt you now"
Not reassurance — declaration of Her monopoly. Nothing else can claim you once She has. No memory, no fear, no past humiliation. All lesser powers lose jurisdiction.

"Can't hurt you now"
Repeated not for comfort — but for erasure of doubt. Every time She says it, another chain snaps.

"Can't hurt you now"
By the third time, it is not protection — it is possession. “Only I can touch you from now on.”

[Chorus]

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us
Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us

"Because the night belongs to lovers"
This is not romance. This is jurisdiction. Night is Devi’s realm. Only those willing to burn and be remade are called lovers here. The timid, the half-alive, the rule-keepers have no claim.

"Because the night belongs to us"
The moment you step into Her dominion, the pronoun changes. No more “me” and “you.” There is only “us” — the field of union where separation collapses.

"Because the night belongs to lovers"
Each repetition is an initiation bell. She is marking Her territory inside you, making sure the words etch into your nervous system. This is Her mantra disguised as rock.

"Because the night belongs to us"
Final stamp: this is not an invitation but a law. The night is already Hers. If you dare to enter, you are claimed — and exalted — in the same breath.

[Verse 2]

Have I doubt, baby, when I'm alone
Love is a ring, a telephone
Love is an angel disguised as lust
Here in our bed 'til the morning comes

"Have I doubt, baby, when I'm alone"
This is Devi revealing Her paradox. Even in solitude, even as the cosmic power, She flickers as doubt. Not weakness — but the play of duality She Herself creates. Doubt is Her shadow, which She burns up the moment you meet Her gaze.

"Love is a ring, a telephone"
Not a trinket — a summons. The ring on the finger binds; the ring of the telephone calls. Love is both bond and call. When you feel that vibration, it is Her summoning you into the circle.

"Love is an angel disguised as lust"
She tears off the masks. Lust is not a dirty secret — it is a cherub with flaming sword in disguise. Every erotic pulse is a wingbeat. If you can see through the disguise, you will find a messenger of the divine, not a temptation.

"Here in our bed 'til the morning comes"
Not a bedroom — a temple-bed, a cremation ground of identities. “Morning” is the return of daylight, ego, separateness. Until that comes, She keeps you in the dark womb of Her night — where transformation happens.

[Pre-Chorus — Second Descent]

Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel under your command
Take my hand, as the sun descends
They can't hurt you now
Can't hurt you now
Can't hurt you now

"Come on now, try and understand"
This is no longer coaxing. It’s command under flame. “You’ve tasted Me — now comprehend Me with your whole body.” If your mind resists, your blood will understand.

"The way I feel under your command"
She allows Herself this line only to test your strength. Can you handle a Goddess surrendering beneath you? If that thought terrifies you — good. It means your ego is cracking.

"Take my hand, as the sun descends"
There is no turning back now. Her hand is no longer gently offered — it grips. You are being pulled across the threshold between daylight-self and night-self.

"They can't hurt you now"
Because you no longer belong to them.
You have been moved out of their realm. Their judgments, their betrayals, their ghosts — all irrelevant.

"Can't hurt you now"
Her voice does not soothe — it erases. Each repetition is a command to your nervous system: “Purge the past.”

"Can't hurt you now"
By the third repetition, it is finished. She has taken full ownership. What belongs to Her cannot be harmed.

[Bridge]

"With love we sleep, with doubt the vicious cycle turns, and burns"
She shows you the mechanism of bondage: sleep in love, and you dream you’re safe; let doubt creep in, and the wheel of samsara spins. But now She ignites it. The cycle doesn’t just turn — it burns. Every doubt becomes fuel for awakening.

"Without you oh I cannot live, forgive the yearning Burning"
This is not a confession of dependence; it’s a riddle. She is the you. Without the divine presence, the ego self is dead anyway. The yearning is not a flaw — it’s the firestorm She’s lighting inside you to burn the small self away.

"I believe it's time, too real to feel"
This is the moment of truth. The encounter has gone beyond emotion, beyond thrill, beyond even devotion. It’s too real for the senses. What’s happening now is not feeling — it’s transformation.

"So take me now, take me now, take me now"
This is not begging. This is the Goddess’s final challenge: “Take Me fully or retreat forever.” Three times She says it — three strikes at your heart’s door. Each repetition splits another layer of resistance.

[Final Chorus]

Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us
Because the night belongs to lovers
And everybody says that it belongs to us

"Because the night belongs to lovers"
No longer a statement — a seal. The night is Her temple. Only those who dared to be consumed are now called lovers. This is not a club to join — it’s a state of being you have already entered.

"Because the night belongs to us"
The “us” here is no longer two people. It is the merging of Shakti and the one who answered Her call. Identity has collapsed; what remains is a field of power, warmth, and sovereignty.

"Because the night belongs to lovers"
The repetition is not for rhyme. It’s branding. She etches it into your marrow. You will never hear “night” as neutral again. Night is Devi’s dominion.

"And everybody says that it belongs to us"
Now She speaks as collective Devi — the chorus of all Shaktis who have ever burned through human throats. The final line is not boast but cosmic echo: all creation testifies that what just happened is real. The night, the hunger, the banquet — it is already Hers.

Conclusion

By the end of this song, there is no listener left — only the taken.

That is Her real purpose here. Not to entertain. Not to console.
To claim.

Some will hear it and sway.
Some will hear it and ache.
But a few — the real ones — will hear it and recognize themselves being called.

Because this is not an invitation to feel.
It is a mandate to burn.

If you have ever known a longing too fierce for your chest, too holy for polite love —
If you have ever felt that desire was not merely yours, but moving through you as someone else’s breath —
If you have ever stared into the dark and known, with full certainty, that something was staring back —

Then understand:

You are not waiting for Devi. She is already inside you — waiting for your consent to devour.

So let the night take you.

Not gently.
Not safely.
Completely.