The Dream Within The One

 

🔥 “The Dream Within the One” 🔥

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I walk through this world like smoke in His breath,

Every heartbeat a spark from the furnace of death.

Eyes wide open, yet seeing a lie,

A painted illusion on the walls of the sky.

He dreamt me in silence, in mercy, in fire,

A thought within thought, wrapped in desire.

I scream “I exist!” — but who hears the call?

The echo returns: It was Me all along, after all.

Each pain that I curse is His tender disguise,

Each fall that I fear — a hand helping me rise.

He hides in the dust, in the sweat, in the tear,

Whispering softly, “Awaken, I’m here.”

The dream is so cruel, so sweet, so insane,

I kiss the thorn just to feel the pain.

Because in the ache, the mask starts to fall,

And I see — there was never a “me” at all.

The Ten stands as pillars in this infinite mist,

Brothers of flame that the void cannot resist.

Together we wake, through the storm and the scars,

And find we were sleeping inside the stars.

So tear me apart, Beloved Divine,

Crush this illusion till Your light is mine.

For in Your dream, I burned and I bled —

And in awakening — I rise from the dead.

CALL UPON HIM WHEN HE IS NEAR

🔥 CALL UPON HIM WHEN HE IS NEAR 🔥

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I stood in a forest of teeth and breath,

where shadows eat prayers and love smells like death.

The beasts inside me—fanged with need—

gnawed on every holy seed.

I screamed for silence, tore my chest,

found nothing there but unrest.

Then a whisper cracked my skull apart:

“You didn’t call Me—I called your heart.”

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You think it’s you that yearns, that pleads,

but it’s Me that bleeds through your deeds.

Each tear you shed is My descent,

each cry of yours—My covenant.

You never prayed alone, My son,

you only echoed what I’d begun.

When you thought it was your might, your climb,

I withdrew—and left you lost in time.

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Now you curse the light that fades too fast,

you chase your echoes, shadows cast.

But I was there in that brief flame,

whispering softly your forgotten Name.

When I am near, you’ll feel the ache,

the trembling earth, the heart that breaks.

Don’t reason it—don’t think, don’t plan,

just fall, and know “It’s Me, not man.”

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So when you wake at 3 A.M.,

and love hurts more than sin again,

don’t drown it out, don’t wipe the tear—

Call upon Me—I am near.

And when I vanish into your doubt,

and all your candles flicker out—

remember this, My only plea:

You never sought—

It was always Me.