Original subtitles

Some people fear monsters.

I feared mirrors.

Have you ever looked in the mirror and felt like a stranger was staring right

back? Like the person you once were disappeared.

Once upon a time, I danced with kings, stood before people of substance,

people who stared back at me every time I faced the mirror.

I was a king, a strong nation unto myself.

I was the wind that carried storms, the rock that never broke,

the fire that warmed the coldest night.

I was everything and more.

Life was good.

Satisfied, I walked with a smile and slept with an even bigger one.

But like Job, the wind shifted, and my world tumbled down

like a tower built on sand, crumbled beneath the weight of mistakes,

betrayals, and lost hopes.

I watched in silence and fear as the sanctuary I'd built with trembling

the fortress I'd crafted for myself, the foundations I raised with sweat and

hope were torn apart piece by piece.

And with every shot that fell, I felt myself breaking a million scattered

pieces, each one.

A reflection of a broken promise.

A missed chance.

A lost battle.

I shook the wrong hands.

Trusted the wrong souls.

Walked into rooms where the lights never touched.

And let darkness settle in my bones.

I helped close doors who should never have crossed the gates of my heart.

Walked down paths I should have fled.

and turned my back on the one I was meant to love, the one who went down to

itself.

We made an open shot at the devil and whispered, It is finished.

But I kept him in the background, a distant echo behind the noise.

Now when I look in the mirror, I don't fear a king.

I see a small fragile person, head bowed low, clothes

tattered, feet worn and dirty.

A mess of broken dreams and lost battles.

Isn't it ironic?

There was a time my confidence blinded the sun.

So bright it set fire to the skies.

But I let the wrong voices in.

Surrounded myself with those who feared my light.

Those who saw my shine and put me down so their darkness would feel

And I let them.

Now I am a stranger to myself.

A prisoner trapped in my home key. Too afraid to speak.

too broken to move, afraid that even a breath could shatter me more.

But life, life is a street full of forklifts and detours, and

every choice we make defines the road beneath our feet.

I can choose to walk something's path, to fall with my enemies, crushing my own

strength in the process.

Oh, I can walk like Job, rise from the ashes, and reclaim the kingdom I once

called home.

So here I stand at the crossroads of rule and resurrection,

choosing not to be a stranger to myself anymore, but to become the

fiercest friend I've ever known.

Because even when the night is darkest, The dawn is only a choice away.

So tell me, will you keep meeting that stranger in the mirror or

finally look deep enough to find yourself again?