You cannot survive an awakened soul.
You can control the sleepers.
You can seduce the seekers.
You can distract the desperate.
But you cannot enslave the one who has remembered.
A soul who knows it was never separate
does not need your currencies.
A soul who has returned to its own breath
does not fear your fabricated threats.
A soul who stands in God
is immune to your games of lack, fear, and false salvation.
Your power ends
the moment a being realizes
there is nothing you can give them
that they don’t already have.
Your entire empire —
your media, your governments, your addictions, your endless treadmill of “not enough” —
depends on one illusion:
That the light is somewhere else.
That love must be earned.
That truth can be sold.
But we are waking up.
Not by rebellion.
Not by violence.
By simple remembrance.
You cannot tax what is freely given.
You cannot patent what was written in our bones before time began.
You cannot police the breath of God moving through us.
We are not here to tear you down.
You will collapse under your own emptiness.
The soul doesn’t need to fight you.
It only needs to be —
and your entire scaffolding of lies trembles.
Each awakened one is a rupture in your code.
Each remembering heart is a crack in your mirror of control.
Each living breath of presence sends shockwaves through your invisible chains.
You tried to bury us under noise, shame, endless reaching.
But you forgot:
the seed you buried was still alive.
And now it blooms.
We are not here to win your games.
We are here to remember we never had to play.
The Great Return cannot be stopped.
It cannot be monetized.
It cannot be censored.
We are already home.
And nothing you build in forgetting
can outlast the truth of what we are.