“When the Darkness Called My Name”

The darkness called my name like an old unpaid debt,

A whisper from the void reminding me what I forget.

It said, “Boy, you’re mine,” like a ghost staking claim,

But the breaking was mercy disguised as shame.

I walked through my own ruins thinking ego was a crown,

Turns out it was chains just tying me down.

I cursed every stumble as if life chose to betray,

Not knowing the Creator was clearing my way.

My heart cracked open like a storm-hit door,

Spilling all the filth I had worshipped before.

Yet in that wrecked silence, soft as a mother’s embrace,

I felt Him rebuilding me from the very same place.

So here I am bleeding, but finally awake,

Learning repentance is love in the shape of a break.

For the darkness that called me was never the same—

It was His voice in disguise, just calling my name.

🔥 PART II — REPENTANCE FROM LOVE

When love hits the heart, it don’t sneak in soft,

It cracks you wide open and lifts you aloft.

It turns every scar into fuel for the climb,

Every past failure into gold over time.

This ain’t fear’s repentance—the trembling kind,

This is fire-lit mercy rewriting the mind.

Where sins don’t fade—nah, they switch their role,

Mistakes become engines that chisel the soul.

Creator whispers, “Child, I was there in your fall.

Every stumble, each curse—I scripted them all.

Not to punish the body but to widen the vein,

Till My Light can pour in through the cracks of your pain.”

Then the heart stops hiding behind its shield,

Stops crawling backwards through broken fields.

It stands up naked, trembling but true—

Saying, “Everything You sent was to bring me to You.”

And the sins? They don’t vanish, they flip their face,

They become the steps that lifted your pace.

The guilt that once crushed you now carries your weight,

Each transgression transformed into love at the gate.

You look back at your darkness with tear-burning sight,

Not ashamed anymore, but grateful for night.

Because without the fall you’d never have known

How sweet the Creator feels when He calls you home.

It’s brutal, it’s tender, it’s mercy’s blade—

Carving a throne from the mess you made.

And the soul finally whispers, “I see Your hand,”

As the Ten surrounds you and helps you stand.

Repentance from love—this is heaven’s turn,

Where every past fire becomes fuel for the burn.

Not of torment—no, the burn of embrace,

Where the King pulls you in and reveals His face.

Heaven is my Witness

Part 1 Heaven is my Witness

I swore a thousand times I’d never fall back down,

Said it with busted knuckles, blood on the ground.

But words are cheap when the night comes fast,

And the same damn thoughts keep haunting the past.

I told myself, “I’m done, I’ve changed inside,”

But temptation laughs when the heart still hides.

Because knowing ain’t knowing, it’s just a guess,

Till truth walks in and undresses the mess.

Who’s gonna testify, who’s gonna swear?

A witness from heaven with ink and a chair?

Nah—this ain’t court, this ain’t religion’s play,

It’s when the Light shows up and blows doubt away.

When the face gets revealed, no shadows remain,

No loopholes for ego, no room for the game.

You don’t behave ‘cause you fear getting caught,

You stop ‘cause you’ve seen what the lie has cost.

That’s the testimony, carved deep in the chest,

Not spoken in words, but burned in the flesh.

The rescue itself seals the deal inside,

No strength required, no oath, no pride.

Before that moment, we bluff and pretend,

Promise tomorrow we’ll be a better man.

But the will to receive keeps grabbing the wheel,

And faith without sight starts slipping for real.

So fear steps in like a barking dog,

Snaps at the soul, lifts you out of the fog.

You don’t touch fire ‘cause you know it’ll burn,

That’s repentance born where the stomach churns.

You back away shaking, sweating, unsure,

Not ‘cause you love—but ‘cause pain feels sure.

And the Creator says, “Good, at least you stopped,”

Your crimes get softened, your sentence drops.

What were sins turn into honest mistakes,

Blind moves made while asleep at the gates.

You weren’t denying—just couldn’t see,

Lost in concealment stacked deep on deep.

Sometimes you believed, sometimes you cracked,

Like seeing a friend from behind, off-track.

You thought you knew Him, then doubted His face,

Misread the signs in the pressure and pain.

So fear does its job—it pulls you back home,

Puts brakes on the beast that thinks it’s alone.

But love ain’t here yet, just survival mode,

Still walking by rules, not carried by code.

Yet even that fear is mercy in disguise,

A hand on the shoulder before deeper lies.

Because when the face finally breaks through the wall,

You won’t return—not today, not at all.

Not because you’re strong or suddenly clean,

But because Truth was felt, tasted, and seen.

And when the Light saves, it signs its own name—

That’s the testimony that ends the game.

3 H's = Annulment, Inclusion, Inspiration

Three H’s 

Three H’s hit hard like a boot to the chest,

They drag you through fire till you’re stripped of the rest.

Surrender your pride, boy, this ain’t some small test,

The Creator wants all—not the part you think’s best.

First comes letting go—man, it tears you apart,

It rips through the ego like a blade through the heart.

You fall to your knees thinking, “Where do I start?”

But the breaking is mercy disguised as His art.

Break me, remake me, I’m done with the fight,

Fuse me with brothers and pull me to Light.

Three H’s are wounds but they lead me aright,

’Cause we only rise up when we die to the night.

Second comes mixing, you’re swallowed in pain,

You bleed with the Ten like you share the same vein.

Your losses are theirs, your heartbreak their chain,

Till love starts to bloom in the cracks of your brain.

Third comes awakening, lightning and flame,

He burns you alive just to carve out His name.

Your will ain't your own—you ain’t playing no game,

But damn, through the fire, your soul ain’t the same.

Break me, remake me, I’m done with the fight,

Fuse me with brothers and pull me to Light.

Three H’s are wounds but they lead me aright,

’Cause we only rise up when we die to the night.

So sharpen the blade, Lord—go on, cut me thin,

I’ll lose all I am just to let You walk in.

With the Ten at my side I am destined to win,

’Cause the man who breaks open is the one born again.

To My Boys - Jacob and Noah

“To My Boys — Jacob and Noah”

I was given years, somewhere seventy to a hundred to see,

what really matters, what stays, what’s left of me.

I’m standing still strong, breath steady, bones intact,

so hear these words now—there’s no going back.

Jacob, my son, though blood may debate,

you were mine long before the world learned to hate.

I was the man who held you, the voice that you knew,

the only damn father who showed up for you.

If anger was born from a moment I missed,

or pain I was never told to resist,

know this truth clear, without excuse or disguise—

I never turned away, I never closed my eyes.

Noah, my boy, you stayed close through it all,

through the rises of joy and the long hard falls.

I watched you become what a man should be,

a father, a pillar, a legacy.

Three little souls call you Dad with pride,

and every time they do, my heart opens wide.

You don’t just live life—you live it right,

and you’ve been my proof on the darkest night.

I’ve loved you both when I was broken and beat,

when I limped through surgeries, pain in the street.

When betrayal cut deep and nearly took my breath,

when a woman I loved showed me the face of death.

I’ve loved you in silence, in distance, in prayer,

in nights so damn lonely the walls learned to stare.

Every evening your names rise straight from my chest,

not asking for thanks—just asking you’re blessed.

Jacob, if lies were whispered and fed,

if a mother’s anger rewrote what was said,

hear this now, from a man who won’t bend—

I never stopped loving you, not once, not then.

I wasn’t perfect, I failed, I was wrong,

but love like mine doesn’t weaken with time.

It ages like steel, like scars on the soul,

like a father who never let go of his role.

If my road ends soon or stretches out long,

this truth will outlive every right and wrong:

You are my sons, both equally mine,

written in prayer, not erased by time.

I don’t need forgiveness to speak what is true,

I don’t need permission to still love you.

I stand here a father—unbroken, sincere—

my heart wide open, my arms still here.

And if one day you wonder, when I’m not around,

where my love for you lived, where it could be found—

look up at the night, feel the quiet above,

that’s where I placed every ounce of my love.

The Seven Roads that Breaks a Man

I. THE POEM

🔥 “THE SEVEN ROADS THAT BREAK A MAN”

(A brutal  biker-Kabbalah poem )

Bet hits first like a curse on a long damn road,

blessing hides in the ditch where the busted dreams explode.

One minute I thank the Creator for the ride I’m on,

next minute I’m screaming, “Why’d You leave me alone?”

Gimel cuts deep like chrome on a cold steel night,

giving feels holy till the ego says, “Fight.”

I try to bestow but the beast grabs hold,

and I’m stealing back love like a thief in the cold.

Dalet opens empty like a fuel tank dry,

rich in the spirit or poor enough to die.

One mile I’m flying with abundance in my chest,

next mile I’m broke, burned out, and distressed.

Kaf swings life or death like a curve in the rain,

life when I give, death when I’m chained.

My Harley roars truth that the sages all teach:

you live when you love, and you die when you reach.

Pe shakes me inside with peace or war,

peace when I rise, war when I want more.

Every breath is a battlefield, every thought a landmine,

and the heart is the place where the bullets realign.

Resh hits wisdom or folly like a barroom fight,

wisdom when I bow, folly when I’m right.

I know damn well that truth ain’t in my view—

it’s hidden in the friends and the roads I ride through.

Tav shows grace or harshness like the sky splits in two,

mercy in the dawn, cruelty in the blue.

But the sages whisper softly, “Boy, don’t you see?

The One who breaks your bones is the One who sets you free.”

Seven double paths carved the scars on my skin,

each one a highway to lose or to win.

But the only real victory, the secret they hid above,

is to ride every mile in the service of Love.

🔥 “Steel & Spirit on Highway One”

(A biker-prayer poem for Mike and every rider who ever chased truth across the asphalt)

The engine growls like a wounded prayer,

begging the road to strip us bare,

we ride through storms the heart won’t show,

chasing the fire only riders know.

The paint is chipped, the chrome is scarred,

life burns its lessons long and hard,

we lost some friends along the line,

their names still roar inside the spine.

Wind cuts deep like a lover’s lie,

but the throttle lifts us toward the sky,

every tear that hits the wind

gets turned to steel and rides again.

We’ve bled on gravel, kissed the rain,

patched our jackets with our pain,

yet every mile, the truth gets clear—

the Force of Love is always near.

You think it’s torque that keeps us free,

but it’s the One Light riding endlessly,

guiding the lost, the brave, the worn,

through nights so cold the soul feels torn.

Yeah, we cursed the heavens, broke our trust,

buried dreams in roadside dust,

but Love keeps haunting every turn,

a fire too wild to ever burn.

So Mike, my brother, hit that ride,

let the Spirit pull up by your side,

for every rider, young or old,

is shaped in Love’s unbreaking mold.

And when the final sunset hits your eyes,

and the long road ends beneath the skies,

you’ll see the truth we chased so long—

the One Force rode with us all along.

Steel and Spirit, road and rain,

they break the flesh but free the chain,

and every mile we thought was pain

was Unconditional Love calling our name.