By BoJenn
The Seer knows.
By the tremors in the wind, by the murmurs of men in power,
she feels the threads begin to weave—
a web of design spun from deceit,
rising above the noise of nations.
She sees ribbons of truth
binding the liars in their own tongues,
their voices choked by the smoke
of the fires they themselves set.
The Seer calls upon the air—
and the air obeys.
Flames of revelation dance like serpents
through halls of marble and gold,
licking the edges of false crowns
and silken words.
For the Reptilians walk among us—
shapeshifters of power and greed,
feasting on the labor of the just,
drinking from the wells of the poor.
They play their games on sacred soil,
bragging of sacrifices never made,
claiming holiness with unholy lips.
Their children trade silver for silence,
their lovers wear deception like perfume.
They hire the damned
and call them chosen.
They lift high the cross they never bore,
parading their false martyrdom
as if the heavens were blind.
But the Seer remembers.
Through the smoke, through the ages,
she has seen this face before—
the pale echo of a tyrant’s grin,
the arrogance of those who would be gods.
And so the ribbons tighten.
The web begins to hum.
The words of the Seer burn brighter—
each syllable a spark,
each truth a blade.
The Reptilian Age will crumble,
as all empires of deceit must.
Their tongues shall turn to ash,
their gold to dust,
their power to memory.
And from the ashes,
the Seer will rise again—
eyes aflame,
voice like thunder—
to remind the sleeping world
that light does not ask permission
to return.
Goodbye Nazi Nationals
Your reign of darkness ends here.
May history hold your name
only as a warning,
and may the light,
forever,
reign instead.
May your hatred dissolve
into the silence of the earth,
and may peace—
at long last—
stand eternal where you once stood.
My Near Death Experience Arts and Thoughts 