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“Why does the certainty of life scare me more than the certainty of death?”

This is a lyric I vividly remember writing in the middle of December 2019. At the time, I didn’t know why those words came to mind or what they meant. I only knew how it happened – 4 a.m., staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, worrying about my future with the deafening voices of anxiety ringing in my ears. I felt afraid, that much I could tell, but I never fully understood what I was afraid of.

I got my answer a month later.

The first time I listened to “Black Swan,” I was speechless. It was an odd sensation for me – I’m not one to be stunned silent for the better part of an hour by a new song, no matter how good it is. But after hearing both versions of the song and reading some of the most vulnerable lyrics I’d ever seen from BTS, my mind was left running so fast, it essentially wasn’t running at all.

BTS is well-known for unique sounds and meaningful lyrics, but this song was something entirely different. That night, the world met BTS’ black swans, and in meeting theirs, I finally met mine.

A dancer dies twice – once when they stop dancing, and this first death is the more painful.

Martha Graham

“Black Swan” is an artist’s confession. It’s love and hate, and a dizzying array of emotions in between. It’s the aftermath of the harrowing realization that art is what makes an artist, yet also what will eventually bring them inescapable, immeasurable pain. It’s the hope to hold onto passion for as long as possible, and the distressing knowledge that an artist is nothing without it.

It’s for that reason that the entire song is propelled forward by sheer desperation behind every lyric – a feeling that’s intensified in the orchestral version by constant arpeggios and tremolos of the strings. Haunting vocal splices float in and out of the mix, like the musical embodiment of the weeping, silent cries described in the lyrics. The tension is so high throughout “Black Swan,” it’s almost palpable. Music is all BTS has and they know it. Every time a chorus hits, it’s a culmination of spiraling thoughts and anxieties, as BTS sings about the paradox of their own existence.

Unlike the the individuation-focused remainder of Map Of The Soul: 7, “Black Swan” emphasizes the collective whole, BTS’ voices overlapping and blending together into a single unit, as if to underscore the universality of the emotions they feel. To listen to “Black Swan,” is to be plunged into the deepest, darkest recesses of not only BTS’ minds but the minds of every creative who has devoted their life to their passion – a passion they are terrified of losing.

If this can no longer resonate
No longer make my heart vibrate
Then this may be how
I die my first death

“Black Swan”

It wouldn’t be a BTS song without some level of comfort, though. “Black Swan” is not a positive song by any means, but BTS does ultimately give themselves and us a spark of motivation. We know full well that there is a black swan inside all of us, lying in wait, but BTS reminds us not to let that knowledge hold us back. If creatives are destined to die two deaths, then we have to fight to stay afloat, even as gravity pulls us down towards the first. Through all the angst and despair, BTS reaffirms their conviction, repeating “do your thang” like a mantra and “with me now” like a statement of solidarity.

Suga once wrote the line, “If you feel like you’re going to crash, then accelerate more.” The message of “Black Swan” is much like that, but directed specifically at artists: If you feel like you’re going to lose your passion, then fight for it even more. Create more, do more, and hold on for dear life because it’s all you have. If it’s any consolation, there are seven men in Seoul and millions of others all around the world who know exactly how you feel. “Black Swan” is a song by artists, for artists.

In my ears are only fast heartbeats, bump bump bump
With my eyes open, into my forest, jump jump jump
Nothing can swallow me
I cry out with all my strength

“Black Swan”

After “Black Swan” was released, all the puzzle pieces finally locked into place and the lyric I had written a month prior finally made sense. I finally confronted my own black swan, thanks to BTS confronting theirs. It’s not that I fear life, but that I fear my first death, and that first death is an inevitable consequence of life. I fear the day when I wake up and I don’t find writing to be exciting or music to be moving.

There’s no telling when that day will come. The beautiful tragedy of “Black Swan” is that there is no way out of the paradox, no solution to the problem, no pretty bow to tie up the loose ends. The only thing that is certain is that my true death, the second one, is out of my hands, but the first is up to me to delay. So while dread lingers in the shadows, I’ve decided to take a page out of BTS’ book and do the only thing I can do – dive head first into my passions without looking back. And I’ve never been happier.