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.