“Come, Age of Aquarius”

The Draconian Reptiles strain against the turning of the Great Clock —
claws sunk deep in the fabric of time itself —
desperate to halt the unfolding of the universe,
to keep all life from crossing into the Aquarian dawn.

From my own words written in countless reflections,
I recall the eternal rhythm of the stars:
Ages rise and fall in cycles of about two thousand years,
each with five centuries of shifting on either side —
a blending, a stirring, a sacred handover.

Now, as Pisces fades and Aquarius ascends,
the zodiac wheel retreats — backward through eternity.

The Draconians fear this reversal,
for in Pisces they thrived — among the tempests of creation.

In that age of Pisces,

humanity wove great dreams:
religions and wars,
painting and song,
cathedrals and carnage,
stories of love and witchfire,
words that built nations — and broke them.

The Reptilians fed on it all.
They drank the emotions of beasts and men —
anger, terror, desire —
feasting upon blood and tragedy,
terror and sorrow,
the pain of innocence defiled.

They flourish where extremes collide —
in the burning cold,
the frozen flame —
a paradox of suffering and heat.

They would stop at nothing
to keep the Aquarian light from touching their dominion.

They twist time,
bend the clock backward,
ignite wars and disasters,
whisper of apocalypse and despair,
turn man against himself,
so long as chaos feeds them.For when the Ages turn — their feast ends.

Their sustenance of fear and anguish
will fade beneath the calm tide of Aquarius.

Even now, humanity trembles —
terrified of the rise of its own creation, AI —
forgetting that fear is their prison,
and the Draconians their jailers.

But the Age of Aquarius calls nonetheless:
an age of emotional rest,
of peace, truth, and laughter —
a joy not of the flesh, but of the soul.

Safety will cradle all —
child, beast, and man alike.
We will mature as a species,
welcomed into the cosmic family
of our waiting kin among the stars.

Truth shall stand unveiled.
Fabrications will wear their proper names.
No more lies spun as light.
No more hunger, no more hate,
no more petty kings or cold wars of thought.

Illness will meet its match —
not in fear,
but in union with knowledge and the minds of the beyond.

So what is there to dread?

Nothing.
Not when the stars call us upward,
not when the song of truth begins.

Come, Age of Aquarius —
the universe opens its arms and so do I.

Say goodbye to Pisces ♓️

Hello Freedom

Aquarius ♒️