🔥 Psalm 34 — William S. Becker 🔥

🔥 Psalm 34 — William S. Becker 🔥

I cried from the pit where the shadows grow tall,

Where the ego claws upward trying to make me fall.

But the Creator bent low to the crack in my chest,

Whispered, “Rise, My son… even broken is blessed.”

I boasted in nothing, for nothing was mine,

My pride was a thief dressed in thoughts so divine.

But the meek heard my trembling and answered my cry,

A Ten made of heaven pulled me up to the sky.

Taste and you’ll see that His sweetness is real,

Though He hides it in hunger the heart must reveal.

He breaks us like bread till our arrogance dies,

Then He feeds us His love… as the tears fill our eyes.

The lions of ego roar loud in the night,

Claiming strength, demanding praise, feeding off light.

But those who seek Him with hands open and bare

Will lack nothing at all, for He meets them right there.

Come children, draw near—learn the terror of good,

The fear that dissolves the “I” where you stood.

Guard your tongue from the poison your anger would spill,

For one word from the heart can bless… or kill.

Turn from your fires that burn what you love,

Do deeds pulled upward from the world above.

Seek out the peace that your ego denies,

And run after unity till your last breath dies.

His eyes are upon us when we shatter in pain,

He gathers each fragment again and again.

But the face of the Maker turns harsh as a blade

Against the desire that keeps us afraid.

The cry of the broken He never ignores,

He storms into exile and shatters the doors.

Close is the Creator to hearts crushed and torn,

He births the new soul where the old self was worn.

Many are the blows that the righteous must take,

For He carves them with mercy until they awake.

But through every wound, every fall, every night,

He delivers the spirit back into the Light.

The hatred of evil destroys itself first,

It drinks its own venom to quench its dark thirst.

But He redeems every servant who learns how to bend—

And no one who trusts Him will break in the end.

Each One Shall Help His Friend — The Inner Battle

Each One Shall Help His Friend — The Inner Battle

A brother falls silent, his light grown thin,

I see the prison bars he’s locked within.

For no man escapes the dungeon alone,

The ego won’t loosen what it thinks it owns.

I tear my own chest just to let him in,

To feel his sorrow beneath my skin.

For only a friend can lift that weight,

Only shared hearts can unseal that gate.

When his spirit breaks, mine cracks too,

Because my correction is seeing him through.

His lack is the hollowness inside my bone,

His cry is the echo of a truth I’ve known.

So I drag his soul from the pit with mine,

Bleeding together is how we climb.

I give him the strength I don’t even possess,

’Til both of us rise from this merciless test.

We kill the lie that we stand apart,

The poison whisper that divides the heart.

We learn the secret the sages penned:

No one is redeemed except by a friend.

And when he breathes again, alive and renewed,

I taste the Creator inside his mood.

For lifting his spirit is how I ascend,

Brutally shattered—reborn—

Through the love of a friend.

When The Ego Scratches The Door

**💔 “When the Ego Scratches at the Door”

I feel the beast claw at my skin,

Begging for a place to begin.

It whispers poison in my ear,

Promising power, masking fear.

It rises fast when I feel slighted,

Turning holy moments crooked and blighted.

It wants the last word, the louder shout,

It wants to win — that’s all it’s about.

And I stand trembling, fists clenched tight,

Trying to choose the path of light.

But the rage inside begins to swell,

Dragging me close to its private hell.

To hold it back is a war each day,

Like tying a monster that won’t obey.

It breaks its chains with a wicked grin,

Then laughs and says, “You’ll never win.”

I bite my tongue until it bleeds,

Praying the Creator will hear my pleas.

“Don’t let me speak… don’t let me fall…

Don’t let my brothers receive my gall.”

Some days I crack, I slip, I break,

Give the ego more than it should take.

It leaves me shattered on the floor,

Ashamed I opened that cursed door.

Yet in the pain, a spark ignites,

A trembling yearning for true heights.

I rise again, bruised and torn,

A heart rebuilt from being worn.

I whisper, “Friends, I’m nothing — see?

Take what’s left and annul this me.”

For only through you do I stand a chance

To silence the beast’s unholy dance.

And in that moment of surrender deep,

The soul awakens from its sleep.

The ego fades, its claws undone,

And I remember: We are one.

The EGO's Confession

The Ego’s Confession

I am the voice that rose inside his chest,

The serpent whisper saying I know best.

I lit the spark, I pushed the shove,

I tore him away from the circle of love.

I made him think he was guarding the light,

While I was the one picking a fight.

I laughed as he walked out the door,

That’s what I live for—just one moment more.

I dress myself as justice, truth, and care,

I say, “You’re right! They’re wrong! Don’t you dare!”

But deep inside I’m rotting, crude, obscene,

A parasite of pride, cold and unclean.

I saw the unity forming bright and strong,

So I whispered poison, “They’re doing it wrong.”

I fed on the chaos—my favorite feast—

And he forgot I’m the man-eating beast.

But now I stand exposed before his friends,

Naked in shame as the pretense ends.

I used his heart, I broke his calm,

And now I tremble before their psalm.

I know he hates me—and he should, it’s true,

For every holy thing I undo.

But Creator, You made me sharp as a knife,

So he’d learn to carve out a higher life.

And brothers, hear me: I beg you too,

Please help him rise above what I do.

For only in you can he silence my roar,

And leave me outside the spiritual door.

I am the ego—small, loud, insane—

A speck of dust pretending to reign.

But his love for you is stronger than me,

And through you all, he longs to be free.

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.