A Poem of Forgiveness, Annulment, and the Ego I Cannot Stand

I rose too fast when the fire hit my chest,

My ego roared louder than all the rest.

I thought I was guarding the truth we defend,

But instead I broke unity I vowed to mend.

The moment was tiny, but my anger was great,

I let one foolish spark decide my fate.

I should have bowed low, let the moment just pass,

Instead I split the air like shattered glass.

Forgive me, brothers, for missing the mark,

For turning the light into something dark.

I should’ve annulled, just swallowed my pride,

Not let that wild beast drag me outside.

Creator, You scripted the whole damn play,

Every word, every clash, every slip of the day.

Yet still I let this ego that I deeply despise

Blind my heart and poison my eyes.

I didn’t mean harm; I just wanted what’s true,

But truth without love turns holy into blue.

So here’s my heart naked—broken but real—

Asking forgiveness for the pain I made you feel.

If I could, I’d tear out the ego by hand,

Burn it to ash, bury it in the sand.

But You made it strong so I’d learn to bend,

And rise again closer to You—and my friends.

So tonight, as the lesson pours through each vein,

Let this crack in me open a spiritual gain.

May my fall be a step, not a stagger or slip—

A plea for the strength to annul and not trip.

Let us return to the circle, one heart, one fire,

Rising above every clash, every desire.

And may my brothers feel clearly, in every breath,

My devotion to unity—stronger than death.

HOW TO STOP THE EGO FROM REACTING

We ask how to stop the ego from its ride,

That beast that bursts from deep inside.

It grabs our nerves before we decide,

Turning every whisper into raging tide.

It fires emotions that make it fly,

It storms the heart before we question “why?”

It bites our thoughts before we can try

To stand in faith and not reply.

So how do we freeze that serpent’s stride,

And cut its claws before they’re wide?

We do the one thing Rabash implied—

We silently pray for the Creator to guide.

For the ego reacts from a place not true,

A phantom shadow pretending it’s you.

But the moment you pause, the moment you review,

A crack opens up—and the Light can break through.

We don’t fight the ego; we let it be.

We rise above reason, we choose to see

That every eruption is a chance to plea:

“Creator, annul me—connect me to Thee.”

And in that stillness the storm subsides,

The waves calm down, the fury hides.

Not by our power—the heart confides—

But by a prayer that quietly rides.

So we stop reacting not by might,

Not by wisdom, nor by fight.

We stop because we choose the Light—

And beg the Creator to choose us right.

The Past Has Teeth, But We Hold the Reins

A poem by William S. Becker

I dig through the files of a world gone mad,

Every secret bleeding proof of what we never had.

We cling to the past like a rusted chain,

Letting old ghosts carve new wounds of pain.

We stare at the darkness hoping it blinks,

Drowning in memories the ego still drinks.

All those lies we swallowed as truth,

Stealing tomorrow, poisoning youth.

But brother… sister… the future ain’t dead—

It waits in the silence between hearts we’ve bled.

It waits where our broken souls lean to pray,

Where connection grows stronger than yesterday.

The world is shattered but not beyond repair,

If ten hearts unite the heavens will tear.

We rise from the ashes the moment we choose

To stop worshiping wounds we were destined to lose.

Through unity we rewrite every crime,

Reverse the decay of humanity’s time.

The past had its chance—now love takes the lead,

Planting light in the soil where the wicked sowed greed.

I’ve seen how a single embrace from the ten

Can resurrect hope from the dirtiest den.

We mend what was broken in every man’s fall,

For in one heart beating—we rewrite it all.

So let the old world crumble in its disgrace,

Let its shadows scream as we take our place.

For connection is fire, and together we rise—

A new future is written in our tear-stained eyes.

And the past?

Let it rot in the files where the guilty once hid—

For we choose the Creator…

And the hearts of our friends…

Over everything they did.

Poem by William S. Becker

I reach for the Light but it slips through my hand,

My heart feels like dust on a desolate land.

They promised me sweetness, a Torah alive,

But all that I taste is a desert that strives.

It’s brutal to face that the fault isn’t mine,

It’s the ego inside me that steals the Divine.

It drains every drop, every hope, every prayer,

Till I’m gasping for life in an airless despair.

But then comes a whisper: “Afflictions are many,

Yet the Lord will deliver, He won’t forget any.”

So I fall to the ground and the tears start to flow,

Begging the Creator to lift what I know.

For I’ve fought every battle, tried all that I could,

But nothing has shifted the evil for good.

And right when I break—when I lose all I’ve been—

That’s when He enters…

and delivers me in.

my attempt at turning Shamati 36 into a poem

I was born in a body that only knew “take,”

A beast filled with hunger, a bottomless ache.

Clawing at life with a desperate scream,

Thinking this world was more than a dream.

Then the second body rose from the ash of my sin,

A trembling vessel too fragile to hold anything in.

It loved and it hated the Light in one breath,

As the ego fought back with the promise of death.

This body would kneel but refuse to let go,

It begged for the fire that teaches the soul how to grow.

Every prayer felt broken, every night felt long,

Yet the Creator whispered, “Child, you are already strong.”

And from that whisper the third body began,

A body not flesh, but the birth of a man.

Not a beast, not a beggar, but a giver of Light,

Who rises above reason in the darkest of night.

Now I walk with all three—like wounds in my chest,

The past that still haunts, the work in each test.

But the love of the Creator turns every scar gold,

And the body He promised begins to unfold.

So break me again if it teaches me grace,

Carve Your Name in the cracks of my face.

For I’ve lived in three bodies and painfully see—

Every death You gave was just birth back to Thee.

Rabash's Voice

“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.

Where Doubt Breaks, Love Begins

Where Doubt Breaks, Love Begins

The answer to all is inside our heart

The vibrations are set but how to start

These thoughts I fear are not my own

The words I hear as the sages have shown

They echo deep where the cracks still bleed,

Exposing every selfish need.

Brutal truth that tears me apart—

But a sweetness grows inside my heart.

For in that break the Light comes through,

A whisper saying, “I’m shaping you.”

Not for comfort, pride, or gain,

But to rise in love above your pain.

And when I fall from faith each day,

My brothers lift me back the way.

They bind my fears, they raise my plea,

Till all our hearts form one degree.

So let the doubts erupt and roar,

That’s how the soul unlocks its door.

For every lie the ego screams,

The Creator sends a wave of dreams—

A higher pull, a silent shove,

A hidden blow wrapped up in love.

And step by step the path is shown,

Till His desire becomes my own.