“Rabash’s Voice”
by William S. Becker
When Rabash speaks, my heart jumps.
His words cut deep, like truth that thumps.
TES rolls out like living fire,
Burning doubt, lifting my desire.
I feel him close, almost near.
A warmth of love, a joy sincere.
Each tone he gave still shakes my chest,
Like he’s calling me to rise, to rest.
The world Kli waits, breath held tight.
We salivate for that ancient light.
His lessons drip like honeyed flame,
Healing wounds we never name.
Short lines.
Sharp heat.
Pure love.
No retreat.
When Rabash speaks, I melt inside.
My ego breaks, my truths collide.
His voice becomes a guiding hand—
And suddenly…
I can stand.
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