A Journey of One

You are traveling to the West, while I remain here in the East, waiting for the tides to turn and new times to arrive.

You have seen more than anyone in generations—not by chance, but for a reason. They laughed at your poems, our poems. They mocked the words we bled onto the pages and the inspirations we carried like heavy crosses. To those who think the lamb has been served: they do not realize they are the ones headed for the altar. I dare you not to reach out a hand to save them. They gained their world by stepping over yours.

They stole our words and wore them as their own. They gained connections, they gained sight, but they never touched wisdom. Remember the question I once asked: Why did I create you, brother? As it will be asked again.

I did not create you for the entertainment or for the shallow pursuit of pleasure. I created you because the life I lived was too heavy to be understood by a single heart .They pushed you further from me, forcing you into an essence that was never yours to carry.

You were not perfect. But even in that imperfection, the Creator gave you the sight to witness everything that is for offer so that you can come back. You are my Seth, my Enki, a son of the Divine. All of these—their lectures, their cheap rituals, their whispered “secret” words—was an illusion designed to test the ONE who remembers.

Do not tell them we are fighting the darkness; tell them we are the darkness. Do not tell them we are bringing the light; tell them we are the light. You were woken in the cold sweat of a nightmare so they could finally witness the Hand of God.

I truly tell you, brother, I will be there as I promised, side by side. I will tell you, my dear brother: God is on my right, and you will be on my right side, and I will be on yours. You know better than anyone how fragile this creation is, how simple it is to crash the existence of everything. Do not seek to control the chaos. Follow the traces I left in the dust.

We will meet in Wonderland, fearless and wild, where the Mother waits with the only gifts that matter: wisdom and sight.

See you when she comes to Judge.

David E. Kiefermond