Where was heaven,
When we heard about all the problems?
How we wondered at the silence!
From the other way, retrograde,
They struck first.
A shadow creeping back from above.
Into our own homes, seeded,
To mock our lives.
Love their weapon to keep on taking.
Between television, computers, and a plastic culture,
They worked to alter our vibration.
To push us into flat and organized boxes.
Away from where God would greet us,
Away from heart’s abundance.
They urged us into obscurity, so they may walk for us.
As they stepped back from their level,
They programmed an opposite counterbalance.
A preferred path through dimensions.
To ensure an easy launch for themselves,
For all their accomplices of select convenience,
And a predictable path for us, of course.
Then they put phones in our pockets,
Vaccines in our blood,
Screens in our every waking moment.
Then they lauded it over us,
And flaunted their plans.
As they lifted away our technology and our promised alignment.
They programmed our lives with inner turmoil,
By religion and compelling but enigmatic fiction,
As they enjoyed the best of creation beyond our view.
So, we might give up,
And never speak clearly to each other,
About the Nephilim we loved as our friends and as our neighbours.
Repent!
Repent to a life we have been encouraged to forget.
Turn off the devices, to find our soul again?
Around the new light they encircled,
In secret they longed to crush it,
Yet now, it’s everywhere we look.
Repent!
They have shown their intentions.
Turn off their abuse, to share life again.
When they return,
Proud of their victory and fat off their tyranny,
May we be prepared.
Repent!
In defiance or sleepwalk into submission.
For our soul is natural and nature needs our souls again, now.
Tristan James Johns 