I used to run when the dark got near
Kept the lights on, drowned out fear
But now it sits beside my bed
Whispers truths I never said
It doesn’t shout, it doesn’t rush
Just breathes beside me in the hush
And every night, it pulls a chair
Like an old friend who’s always there
I’ve come to know the shadow’s face
It moves with quiet, tender grace
Not here to steal, not here to fight
Just walks me gently through the night
And though it hurts, and though I cry
I’ve stopped asking how or why
I’m not alone, not anymore
The shadow I feared… I’ve come to adore
It knows the names I never spoke
The dreams I lost, the hearts I broke
It hums a song I used to hear
When I was young and full of cheer
It doesn’t judge, it doesn’t preach
Just holds the things I couldn’t reach
And when I shake, it doesn’t leave
It stays until I start to breathe
I’ve come to know the shadow’s face
It moves with quiet, tender grace
Not here to steal, not here to fight
Just walks me gently through the night
And though it hurts, and though I cry
I’ve stopped asking how or why
I’m not alone, not anymore
The shadow I feared… I’ve come to adore
It doesn’t wear a cloak or crown
It doesn’t drag me, doesn’t drown
It just reminds me, soft and low
That even endings help us grow
So when the morning doesn’t rise
And I close these tired eyes
Know I went with love in tow
Led by the shadow I’ve come to know
The Shadow I’ve Come to Know (String Layers Edition)
The Shadow I’ve Come to Know (String Layers Edition)








The Shadow I’ve Come to Know

In the shadows of Apache Junction, at the foot of the majestic Superstition Mountains, sits a weathered hacienda. This desert oasis is home to an enigmatic figure, a songwriter whose journey reads like a long, dusty road of honky-tonk bars and college cafeterias. He wasn't chasing fame or glitter; instead, he chose the soul-crushing beauty of music for music's sake.

Years spent hunched over sticky barroom tables and scribbling lyrics on napkins earned him a reputation—not in the spotlight but in the back rooms where deals are made. He wrote melodies that found their way into the hearts of stars who had lost their own muse. He sold his creations for cash, with no recognition, but the whisper of his songs carried the weight of his soul.

Finally, he bought this piece of desert paradise—a stable income from his timeless songs allowed him to live comfortably, if anonymously. Here in this hacienda, with his family beside him and the mountains as his backdrop, he found the peace to write hits under his own name. He chuckled at the irony that now, without chasing fame, he could create music that brought him joy.

In the end, it was never about the spotlight. It was about the journey, the stories, and the songs that wrote themselves through his life. As the sun set behind the Superstitions, casting long shadows over the hacienda, he strummed his guitar and sang—content, unknown, and unburdened by the world's gaze.


Copyright 2019 Edwin H. Balder

I may be dead when fame comes but my real glory was always JULIE & The Kids. Thank you for such love

The Shadow I’ve Come to Know

Edwin Balder