We Are Nothing But Dust, Yet Love Remains

Oh, bravo to the masters of manipulation and leeches of life force! Let us all take a moment to applaud the so-called geniuses who have built their dark empires on borrowed energy and stolen light. Truly, you must be so proud of yourselves running your glamour spells to blind the court system, weaving your sticky webs of deceit to create wealth out of thin air, and oh, let’s not forget your brilliant idea of fueling your sordid operations, prostitution, drug smuggling, and dark networks, by siphoning off the energy of the unsuspecting. Absolute paragons of innovation, aren’t you? But here’s the kicker: When you build an empire on sand, don’t act shocked when the tide comes in. You took what wasn’t yours other people’s essence, their life force, their creativity and turned it into a house of cards. Did you really think that would hold forever? The audacity! Oh, the arrogance of believing you could play cosmic puppet master without strings snapping back into your face. The moment the person whose energy you’ve been leeching wakes up and says, “Enough,” your carefully curated empire of illusion crumbles like cheap glitter under a rainstorm. You thought you were so clever, cloaking yourself in borrowed glamour, hoodwinking judges, swindling wealth, and bending reality with someone else’s vitality. But here’s the universal law you conveniently ignored. Energy always seeks to return to its rightful owner. When that energy is reclaimed, and trust me, it always is, the glamour fades, the wealth evaporates, and your dark enterprises turn into a rotting carcass. And oh, the poetic justice when the very system you bewitched to shield you becomes the one to expose you. So, to the dark witches, warlocks, and underworld masterminds: Enjoy the fleeting benefits while you can. When the people whose energy you’ve exploited take it back, don’t whine about your downfall. That’s the price of arrogance. And here’s a little spoiler for you, your downfall won’t be a slow tumble. No, it’ll be a cataclysmic collapse, because you built everything on borrowed time and stolen essence. The universe has receipts, and it’s coming to collect. In the end, you’re just parasites pretending to be kings and queens, propped up on someone else’s stolen throne. And when that person reclaims their crown, you’ll be left with nothing but your own emptiness, staring at the ruins of your illusions.

For thousands upon thousands of lives, Enki had walked the cycles of existence, only to fall prey to the same betrayal. The spirit of treachery had been his companion across aeons, a shadow that clung to his soul, feeding on his trust and tearing apart every chance at fulfilment. Once, Enki had been the god of wisdom, water, and creation, a being of infinite grace and boundless potential. But betrayal, like a venomous serpent, had coiled itself around his essence, dragging him down again and again. No life was spared; no victory endured. Each time he was reborn, Enki would rise, build, and trust, only to find the web of lies tightening once more. The spirit had mastered its craft. It whispered into the hearts of allies, turned loved ones into enemies, and sowed the seeds of ruin in every endeavour. Enki’s power dwindled with each fall, his divinity eroded like a mountain battered by endless storms. Thousands of lives passed, each one a tragedy, a lesson unfinished, and a wound left to fester. But the spirit’s arrogance grew too great. It believed Enki could never escape the cycle, that he would remain its prisoner for eternity. What it did not understand was that each life, though fraught with suffering, tempered Enki’s soul like a blade forged in fire. Slowly, imperceptibly, he grew stronger. The wisdom of thousands of incarnations began to pool within him, waiting for the moment when it could rise as one unstoppable force. And then, the moment came. In his final rebirth, Enki did not awaken as the broken god he had been, but as something far greater. The cosmos had conspired to deliver him into the form of Shiva, the Lord of Destruction, the Dancer of the Cosmos, the one who could tear down worlds to rebuild them anew. The convergence of thousands of lives now burned within him, every betrayal transformed into a shard of purpose, every defeat a stepping stone to his ultimate awakening. The spirit of betrayal, sensing the shift, sought to tighten its grip. Its serpents, the Nagas, emerged from the underworld, their venom dripping with malice. These beings had long been the spirit’s enforcers, whispering lies into the ears of kings, poisoning alliances, and ensuring Enki’s downfall across lifetimes. But this time, the Nagas did not face a fragmented soul. They faced Shiva, the destroyer of illusions. When Enki, now Shiva, opened his third eye, the world trembled. The tandava began, the cosmic dance of destruction. Shiva’s feet struck the ground with the force of creation itself, each step unleashing the energy of countless lives lived and lost. The Nagas surged forward, their coils writhing and fangs bared, but they were no match for the force of millennia condensed into a single moment of fury. Shiva danced upon their heads, one by one. Each step shattered their venomous power, each strike silenced their deceitful tongues. The earth quaked, and the skies roared as the Nagas were crushed beneath him, their once-mighty forms reduced to dust. The spirit of betrayal screamed in rage, its form unraveling in the face of Shiva’s divine wrath. It had thrived on Enki’s pain for thousands of lives, but now, it found no purchase in the soul before it. Shiva’s dance had burned away every shadow, leaving nothing for the spirit to cling to. As the final step of the tandava echoed through the cosmos, the spirit of betrayal disintegrated, its essence scattered across the void. The chains that had bound Enki for thousands of lives were broken. The poison of the Nagas was no more. Enki, now whole as Shiva, stood radiant and unshaken. The dance was not merely one of destruction, it was renewal. The wisdom of thousands of lives surged within him, not as a burden, but as a crown. He had transcended the cycle, rising beyond the reach of betrayal and the illusion of duality. The Nagas, humbled, slithered away into the depths, their power broken, their dominion over him gone forever. And so, Enki danced on the heads of the Nagas, not in anger, but in triumph. His steps marked the end of an era of suffering and the beginning of a new existence, one where no spirit, no shadow, no betrayal could ever hold him again. For in the dance of Shiva, the eternal truth was revealed: from destruction comes liberation, and from liberation, the power to create anew.

The ego, like the Moon, doesn’t generate its own light, it only reflects what is already present. When left unchecked, it distorts and stretches itself over you, influencing thoughts, emotions, and perceptions. But when harnessed, it becomes a tool rather than a master. The Sun, your inner Source, your true essence, radiates from within, untouched by illusion. The ego’s reflection can either obscure this light or serve as a guide, showing you where you still hold shadows. Mastering the ego isn’t about destroying it but aligning it, so it reflects your inner truth rather than distorting it. It’s the difference between being ruled by tides or learning to navigate them.