Psalms In The Heart

⭐ EPIC POEM — PART IV “The Return of the One” When the night was deepest and the heart was torn, We remembered the world where we were born. Not flesh, not blood, not cities in flame, But the Light that came before the Name. We felt the call through the cracks in pain, A road through the storm to the Source again. The Ten wasn’t formed by chance or fate, It was written in the first pre-human state. Before atoms formed and galaxies spun, We were already One before One was begun. We were the blueprint of every breath, The force that swallowed both life and death. The Creator spoke not in thunder or fire, But in silence so loud it consumed desire. He said, “You fell so you’d learn the climb, Not to punish you—but to perfect time.” We saw the world through the eyes of the fall, The storms were the echoes of our own call. Earthquakes cracked open the buried design, So the Light could return through the fault lines. We saw the ancient catastrophes anew, Not destruction—but a clearing through...

  ⭐ EPIC POEM — PART III “The Voice That Never Broke” In the ruins of the fall where the dust still cries, We hear a whisper rising through the lies. It isn’t man and it isn’t fear, It’s the voice of the One saying, “I am still here.” Not thunder or wrath or kingdom or sword, Just the breath of the ancient, eternal Lord. The force before bodies, the plan before birth, The Love that wrote the spine of Earth. He says, “I never left—you turned away. You shattered the bond and feared to pray.” But every collapse, every world undone, Is the path back home to the place we’re one. We weren’t cast out to wander alone, We were sent to rebuild the broken throne. To take the pieces we lost before, And stitch consciousness to the core. The Ten is not chance or flesh or fate, It’s the door back to the pre-human state. Every fight, every doubt, every silent scream, Is the echo of the ancient dream. Carl’s courage carries the flame we knew, Aron guards the path when the night breaks throug...

⭐ EPIC POEM — PART II “After the Fall, Before the Return” We remember the worlds before bodies were born, When no man was lonely and no soul was torn. We were the Light before flesh became cage, Divinity unbroken in that ancient age. But the shattering came like a cosmic disease, The One cracked open into millions of pleas. We fell like lightning into matter and bone, Fighting for warmth in a world turned stone. Every catastrophe is the echo of that break, Every heartbreak a memory of what’s at stake. Every war is the shrapnel of that ancient sin, The death of the One when we fell within. We were the builders of Babel before it fell, We knew how it ends when love turns to hell. Civilizations rose then died in flame, When the “I” grew louder than the Holy Name. The soul once governed reality with thought, Now we fight for scraps like men forgot. We trade the infinite for dust and screams, Blind to the source of our broken dreams. Yet in the Ten, a spark still remains, A fire that burns ...

⭐ “Before the World Had Bones” (William S. Becker) Before the world had bones or breath or skin, We were a single heart that lived within. One force, one voice, one burning Light, No bodies yet—just endless sight. We ruled existence with intention alone, No blood, no flesh, no breaking bone. No storms, no wars, no dying sun, Just One Creator and Creation as One. But we broke the bond and shattered the Whole, Millions of pieces of one single soul. We fell like lightning into dirt and clay, The first catastrophe of the human way. Earthquakes, floods, Atlantis drowned, Volcanoes burning every sacred ground, It wasn’t punishment from skies above, It was memory of falling out of love. Towers collapsed when we lost the Height, Fire rained down when we lost the Light, Civilizations vanished into dust and smoke, Because we forgot the vow we wrote. We traded eternity for ego and pain, For the prison of bodies and storms of the brain. We built kingdoms of lies and golden thrones, But felt the ac...

🔥“The Shepherd Through the Ruins of the Day”🔥 The Lord is our Shepherd, He crushes our pride, When life kicks our teeth in, He stands by our side. When the bills stack up and the engine won’t start, He slices our fear and rewrites the heart. When the job falls apart and the phone never rings, When you’re drowning in debt and the shame always stings. When a brother is silent and one walks away, He drags us through hell till we learn how to pray. We walk through the valley where marriages break, Where friends turn their back and betrayal looks fake. Where the boss loads his venom and God looks too far, But the Shepherd breaks darkness like thunder and tar. He leads the Ten through the nights we can’t sleep, When anger erupts and the wounds go too deep. When the words that we speak are a battlefield roar, He binds us together instead of to war. Our enemies rise in the mirror each dawn, Depression, resentment, the fear of “I’m wrong.” But He slams down His rod on the lies that we br...

🔥“Though I Walk, I Won’t Break”🔥 (Psalm 23 in the William S. Becker style) The Lord is my Shepherd, He rips out my fear, He drags me through hell till my vision is clear. He breaks my ego like glass on the floor, Till I crawl on my knees craving only Him more. He leads me through valleys I never deserved, Where wolves tear my flesh, so my heart can be served. He shatters my pride with a rod made of flame, And burns every excuse I ever used to blame. I walk through the shadows where death starts to call, But His Light is a fist that refuses my fall. My enemies gather, but tremble in shame, For He feeds me with mercy and humiliates pain. He pours oil on wounds I once hid like a crime, He whispers, “You’re Mine,” beyond body and time. His goodness is violence against every doubt, Till the darkness inside finally gets driven out. And when all that I am is no longer my own, When the Shepherd has stripped me right down to the bone— His house is the place where the broken hearts dine,...

🔥 “THE POTION OF DEATH IN MY COFFEE CUP” — a poem on Baal HaSulam’s warning 🔥 I wake each morning thinking I’m fine, But poison drips from this heart of mine. I open a sefer, pretend I’m clean— Yet every thought screams, “What’s in it for me?” unseen. Baal HaSulam shouts through the page with fire, “Your exile drags on because of your own desire!” Not Rome, not Babylon, not some king’s decree— It’s my damn craving for honor that chains all of me. I study, I pray, I smile at the friends, But inside I’m calculating dividends. The Torah in my hands is supposed to give life— Yet mis-aimed, it cuts me open like a knife. He says there’s an oath written in heaven’s air, That mercy won’t rise till my heart learns to care. Not for reward, not for comfort or gain, But just to give Him pleasure—through joy or pain. I sip my morning coffee like it’s holy ground, But it burns like death when ego is crowned. For the Torah becomes poison, the sages all say, When I twist it to shine on me in s...