Story Of A Wandering Man

There once was a man with the soul of a pup, Who’d chase and would fetch, always eager to jump. He’d wag his tail for a pat or a treat, Content in his life, with the leash at his feet. His world was so comfy, predictable, tame, But deep down inside, it all felt the same. He’d run for approval, he’d stay by their side, Yet the leash of that life held him close, kept him tied. Then one fateful day, when it all fell apart, The leash slipped away, and it startled his heart. He’d been left alone, in a place he knew not, A breakup, a move, now what had he got? But wait! He looked ‘round, saw the world open wide, No longer a pet with his life pre-supplied. No more the good boy, all leashed to his chore, He now had a choice, he could be so much more. Like a cat in the night, with a prowl and a hiss, He’d learned that the cage was not something to miss. For a cat hunts alone, picks its fights in the dark, It slinks through the shadows, it leaves its own mark. No master to please, no leash and no chain, The cat has its freedom, its pride to sustain. So he prowled through the night, choosing when to engage, No longer a slave to some comfortable cage. He hunts for himself, does what he will, There’s danger, but oh, the sweet freedom and thrill. For it’s better to wander, to prowl, and be free, Than to sit on a leash, even comfortably. So the man now a cat, with a flick of his tail, Said goodbye to his past and let loose a loud wail. For freedom, my friend, is a gift you must find, When you break from the leash that once tethered your mind!

For centuries, they have built a system where power remains pure in appearance, yet filthy beneath the surface. The men in white robes, the so-called enlightened ones, sit in their thrones of light, untouched, unstained, while the real work, the dirty work, the destruction, the spiritual bloodshed, is left to those in the shadows. This is not just a religious structure, it is a cosmic hierarchy, a system of control that has repeated itself throughout history. And now, the veil is lifting. The truth is being seen. The game is being revealed. This chapter is an exposé, not just of what they do, but of how they get away with it, and why they believe no one will ever be able to touch them. I. The White Robes and the Illusion of Holiness There is a reason the men in power never get their hands dirty. • They sit on high councils, behind grand doors, in temples, in secret chambers, presenting an image of purity, enlightenment, and righteousness. • They do not cast spells, conduct rituals, or stain their hands with betrayal, because that would corrupt their divine image. • Instead, they issue decrees, orchestrate fates, whisper instructions, and let others carry out the work for them. They project divine authority, ensuring that no one ever questions the reality of their hands being clean. But purity is an illusion. The light they wear is only a mask, beneath it, the real machinery of control operates in darkness. II. The Women as Shadow Workers and Spiritual Enforcers Every system of control has a hidden workforce, and in this case, it is the women they choose, train, and weaponize. • These women are selected, conditioned, and spiritually bound to serve as tools of enforcement. • They are told that they are special, chosen, exalted, carrying out divine work. • But in reality, they are doing the dirty work the men will never do themselves. They cast the spells. They bind the fates. They manipulate, seduce, deceive, and destroy. They do it all believing they are serving a higher cause. But what they don’t realize is that they are just as expendable as the people they are sent to destroy. III. The Final Betrayal: When the Women Are No Longer Useful When their work is done, the true nature of the system reveals itself. • The men who once exalted them suddenly act as if they never existed. • If they are exposed, they are sacrificed to protect the purity of those in power. • If they become too powerful, they are eliminated, spiritually, socially, or even physically. They were never meant to hold power. They were only meant to carry out orders and be discarded when their hands became too dirty. This is why so many female spiritual enforcers eventually become exiled, destroyed, or driven mad. • They realize too late that they were only a tool. • They gave everything for a cause that never truly belonged to them. • And when the time comes, no one saves them, no one acknowledges them, no one even remembers them. Because they were never part of the real game. They were only pieces to be used. IV. The True Reason They Hide in the Light Now the question remains: Why go to such lengths to hide behind purity? Because if they were ever truly exposed, their power would collapse instantly. • Their control relies on the illusion of divinity. • If the world saw what truly happened behind closed doors, they would lose all spiritual authority. • The system survives because no one can prove what they have done. And so, they remain above it all, untouched, allowing others to be punished, tainted, and sacrificed in their place. They are not holy men. They are not divine leaders. They are cowards who build walls of purity so that others can sin on their behalf. V. What This Means for You Now that you see the game, the illusion is shattered. • You were never meant to wake up. • You were never meant to see beyond the veil. • You were supposed to play your role and never question why. But the truth is this: They are not untouchable. Because their power only exists as long as people believe in the illusion. And once the illusion collapses, so does their reign. So now, the only question that remains is: Now that you see through their deception, what will you do with the truth?

Oh, the gap that we see, it is wide, it is vast We could build to the middle, we could do it quite fast But I build from my side, and you build from yours Yet you won’t lay your beams, you won’t open your doors You say, “I want power” You say, “I want might” But where’s the true wisdom in refusing what’s right We could meet in the middle, bridge that space in between But you hoard all your bricks, so we stay where we’ve been For when greed takes the lead, and control fills the air The bridge cracks and crumbles with none left to care And what do we find when no bridge has been made Walls built up higher, where once hope had stayed Yes, wars are born here, in the greed and the pride When we can’t build together, standing side by side And murders are seeded in the soil of disdain Where bridges are broken, and peace dies in vain Oh, but we could Yes, we could Build a bridge if we try But if only one builds, then the other must fly For one can’t cross over what one can’t construct A bridge needs both builders, or it’s bound to be stuck So I build my half, you build yours, that’s the plan But if you refuse, I will stay where I stand For bridges need balance, need trust and respect Without that, it crumbles, a lost architect And when we fail here, it’s destruction we breed In the void grows corruption, and festers our greed With no bridge between us, just a wall that divides It’s crime, war, and chaos that seep from the sides So think, as you hoard, and you clamor for more A bridge waits for builders, or it’s endless war Let’s build halfway, meet in trust and agree But without your half, it’s goodbye, not unity