The Light Was Never The Problem

 

“The Light Was Never the Problem”

The Light never asked if I was ready to see,

It burned the whole time — the fault was in me.

I screamed at the heavens, “Why don’t You reply?”

While hiding a vessel too cracked to comply.

I’m not master of thoughts, they strike like a blade,

I don’t choose their arrival, I choose how I’m played.

The screen is the battleground, thick or refined,

Not Light that is lacking — but will in the mind.

I begged for restriction, I cursed at the flame,

But Rabash stood firm and dismantled the game:

You never restrict what was never confined,

You restrict what you are — not the Light you can’t bind.

So I grind down the ego, refine what I feel,

Build strength in the Masach, make intention my shield.

The Light doesn’t stop — it was waiting all along,

For a vessel grown humble, corrected, and strong.