“2 Become 1” (https://www.vira-chandra.com/2025/09/2-become-1-kamakhyas-whisper-of-sacred.html) was the moonlit lamp — soft, tender, clearing the bed like an altar.
“Because the Night” is the door kicked open.
No gentle coaxing, no waiting for readiness.
This song comes like thunder on bare skin —
it does not ask permission, it takes you.
This is Kamakhya in Her fiercest mood —
not the quiet priestess, but the storm-goddess of Nilachala,
who drenches the hill in blood once a year,
who taught Guruji Amritananda that desire is holy and dangerous,
and that the only safe way to love is to love until nothing is left.
Here, night is not a metaphor — it is the temple itself.
The dark is thick, electric, erotic.
Kamakhya says:
“Take Me now.
Here. As I am.
Feed on this fire,
or turn away forever.”
This is not romance — it is initiation by lightning.
The night belongs to lovers who dare to step into it barefoot,
unafraid to be burned.
Verse 1
Take me now, baby, here as I amPull me close, try and understandDesire is hunger, it's the fire I breatheLove is a banquet on which we feed
“Take me now, baby, here as I am”
This is not a request — this is Kamakhya’s roar.
She stands unveiled, no mask, no softening.
Here as I am means in Her full power: bleeding, birthing, devouring.
She demands: Meet Me like this, or not at all.
“Pull me close, try and understand”
This is the moment where She collapses the distance.
There is no time to linger in thought — understanding must happen through touch.
Kamakhya is saying: You will not figure Me out from afar — only by holding Me close enough to feel the tremor of My breath.
“Desire is hunger, it's the fire I breathe”
This line is pure tantra.
Desire is not an obstacle — it is the Goddess’ own mouth exhaling flame.
Kamakhya breathes hunger into the world to draw lovers into union,
to burn away fear and hesitation until only the raw pulse of life remains.
“Love is a banquet on which we feed”
This is the Kaula feast.
Love is not scarce, not rationed — it is an endless table.
Kamakhya spreads the banquet and says:
Eat until you are undone.
Feed until there is no separation left between feeder and fed, lover and beloved, self and Self.
This verse is not gentle longing — it is summons and command.
Kamakhya tears away every excuse and drags the listener into Her storm,
where desire is no longer dangerous but divine,
and where love is not a quiet feeling but a fire meant to consume.
Pre-Chorus
Come on now, try and understandThe way I feel when I'm in your handsTake my hand come undercoverThey can't hurt you nowCan't hurt you now, can't hurt you now
“Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel when I'm in your hands”
Kamakhya is no longer merely calling — She is commanding.
“Try and understand” is not intellectual — it is visceral.
She is saying: Feel Me. Hold Me. Let your hands become the yantra through which you know Me.
There is something shocking here — the Goddess admitting She is in your hands.
This is the Kaula paradox: She is infinite, yet She chooses to be vulnerable, to let the devotee’s touch complete the circuit of creation.
“Take my hand come undercover
They can't hurt you now
Can't hurt you now, can't hurt you now”
Here Kamakhya becomes both lover and protector.
“Come undercover” is Her invitation into the secret place —
not hiding in fear, but stepping into the inner sanctum where the world cannot follow.
“They can’t hurt you now” is Her fierce promise.
It is as if She draws a circle around the lovers and declares it a consecrated space.
No judgment, no past shame, no outside gaze can penetrate.
The world with its laws, fears, and punishments falls away — inside Her shrine, there is only this fire, this union.
This pre-chorus is Kamakhya’s embrace and shield in one motion.
She demands that you cross fully into Her temple and then seals it,
turning the night into a fortress where nothing false can reach you —
where the only reality left is the burning of desire until dawn.
Chorus
Because the night belongs to loversBecause the night belongs to lustBecause the night belongs to loversBecause the night belongs to us
“Because the night belongs to lovers”
This is no longer metaphor — this is cosmic decree.
Kamakhya claims the entire night as Her temple.
She declares: This darkness is not empty, it is Mine. It is for those who dare to merge.
In Her presence, lovers are not sinners — they are priests, performing the oldest rite in the universe.
“Because the night belongs to lust”
Here comes the most radical line — and Kamakhya does not flinch.
Lust itself is not profane; it is Her sacred current.
This is the yoni speaking: Your desire is holy. Your longing is the mantra that opens My gates.
Kaula tantra has always taught this: what the world calls impurity becomes the very ladder to freedom.
“Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to us”
The final line pulls the listener all the way in: the “us” is not just two humans,
it is lover + Goddess, devotee + Devi,
Śiva and Śakti together, reclaiming the night as the ground of liberation.
This chorus is Kamakhya’s shout over the storm — a declaration that night, lust, and love all belong to Her,
and that those who step into this dark with courage will find it is not a place of fear but of fusion,
where the soul is reborn in fire.
Verse 2
Have I doubt when I'm alone?Love is a ring, the telephoneLove is an angel disguised as lustHere in our bed until the morning comes
“Have I doubt when I'm alone?
Love is a ring, the telephone”
Here Kamakhya steps closer, almost whispering.
Even the Goddess names the human truth — the moment of doubt when night turns too quiet.
But She answers it immediately: love is a ring, a call that never stops.
Even when alone, the seeker is never abandoned — the very ache is Her signal pulling you back.
“Love is an angel disguised as lust”
This is one of the most tantric lines in rock history.
Kamakhya lifts the veil and tells the secret outright:
What you called lust was never separate from love — it was love in its wildest, most urgent mask.
This is the heart of Kaula tantra: the so-called lower impulse is not to be crushed but revealed, transformed, made luminous.
“Here in our bed until the morning comes”
This is Her most intimate promise.
The bed becomes the sanctum sanctorum, the place where the two remain together until the first light.
Kamakhya does not slip away before dawn — She stays until the night has done its work.
And when the morning comes, it is not just a new day — it is a new birth.
This verse is Kamakhya’s tenderest moment — not diminishing the fire but revealing the heart hidden beneath it.
She shows that lust was never a trap but a doorway, and that those who dared to enter find themselves held until the night completes its alchemy.
Second Pre-Chorus
Come on now, try and understandThe way I feel under your commandTake my hand as the sun descendsThey can't touch you nowCan't touch you now, can't touch you now
“Come on now, try and understand
The way I feel under your command”
The polarity reverses here — the devotee is no longer passive.
Kamakhya confesses that She Herself is moved, that the seeker’s surrender has become a kind of power over Her.
This is the paradox of Kaula love: the Goddess does not merely dominate — She allows Herself to be possessed.
She says: Yes, I am infinite — and yet your devotion has made Me tremble.
“Take my hand as the sun descends
They can't touch you now
Can't touch you now, can't touch you now”
The night is deepening — the sun is gone, and the final descent has begun.
Kamakhya takes the lover’s hand not as a guide but as an accomplice:
Let’s go down together — into the full dark, into the fire where the last masks will burn.
“They can’t touch you now” — this is Her second sealing of the shrine.
No fear, no judgment, no karma from the past can enter this circle.
This is not just safety — it is absolution.
Bridge
With love we sleepWith doubt the vicious circle turns and burnsWithout you, I cannot liveForgive, the yearning burningI believe it's time, too real to feelSo touch me now, touch me now, touch me now
“With love we sleep
With doubt the vicious circle turns and burns”
Here the night becomes the yagna-kunda — the sacrificial fire.
Love allows rest and melting, but any lingering doubt is consumed.
The “circle turns and burns” until there is nothing left to hold back.
“Without you, I cannot live
Forgive, the yearning burning”
The Goddess admits total mutuality — She, too, is incomplete without this union.
Forgive is not an apology but a release:
Let go of the last guilt. Let the yearning become a sacred flame instead of a torment.
“I believe it's time, too real to feel
So touch me now, touch me now, touch me now”
This is the climax — not metaphorically but ritually.
The Goddess declares that the moment has come, that this is no longer dream or fantasy but reality too fierce to keep waiting.
The triple “touch me now” is the final mantra, the invitation that cannot be refused.
It is the demand that the rite be consummated now — not later, not in some idealized future.
This bridge is the ecstatic breaking point — where longing turns into action, where hesitation burns away, and where the night becomes unstoppable.
Kamakhya has thrown open the last door — now the only thing left is the plunge.
Final Chorus
“Because the night belongs to lovers
Because the night belongs to lust”
By now, these lines are no longer invitation — they are victory cry.
The lovers are no longer standing at the edge of the shrine — they are in its innermost sanctum, merged, trembling, alive.
Kamakhya declares the night fully claimed: every drop of sweat, every shiver, every gasp has been consecrated.
“Belongs to lust” is now a proclamation: the very current of desire has been redeemed and enthroned.
Lust is no longer something to fight against — it has become the mantra that carried the lovers to liberation.
“Because the night belongs to us”
The final “us” is not just two humans.
It is Shiva and Shakti together — the cosmic lovers, the masculine and feminine currents now fused.
The night no longer belongs to fear, to loneliness, to despair — it belongs to those who dared to turn it into a temple.
Outro
“Because tonight there are two lovers
If we believe in the night we trust”
Here is the final teaching: night is no longer the enemy.
To trust the night — to trust the darkness, the desire, the fire — is to step fully into life.
The repetition becomes mantra:
“Belongs to lovers… belongs to lust…” until the words themselves dissolve into pure vibration,
like the sound that hangs in the temple after the last bell is struck.
When the dawn comes, the lovers are no longer merely lovers.
They are initiated.
The night has consumed them and given them back to the world as something whole.
Final Offering: Burnt Clean
The night does not “comfort.”
It does not “heal gently.”
It burns.
This song is not a lullaby — it is a cremation ground where everything false is set on fire:
your shame, your hesitation, even your idea of who you were before this night.
Kamakhya does not give back the same lover who entered.
She gives back someone marked —
skin humming with Her current,
mouth still tasting of ash and honey.
When morning comes, you do not step into it “whole.”
You step into it changed,
half-wild, half-divine,
carrying the scent of the shrine into every ordinary hour.
The night belongs to lovers because it remakes them.
And if you dare to answer this call,
you will not just survive the dark —
you will come out of it as the dark itself,
luminous, dangerous, and free.
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