You asked for reverence, then wrapped…

You asked for reverence,
then wrapped your hands in silk
to call your chains affection.

You spoke of honor,
yet every blessing you offered
carried a hidden hook.

Tell me—

Who crowned you above the One
who stitched breath into my lungs?

Who whispered
that my soul required your permission
to become whole?

No.

Allow me to be the hand
that tears your borrowed kingdom
from beneath your feet.

I have never walked with crowds.

Not with family.
Not with friends.
Not with those who gathered
only when my hands were full
and vanished
when they found them empty.

I walked where the silence answered.

I walked where prayers
echoed louder than applause.

Only God
found me buried beneath the years.

Only God
lifted the stone.

Only God
placed fire inside broken bones
and called them living again.

You mistook His gifts
for something you could purchase.

You mistook my patience
for surrender.

Forty-six years
you harvested what was never yours.

Forty-six years
you sharpened your hunger
against an open heart.

But the man you studied
is gone.

The grave no longer recognizes my name.

The one who rises now
does not bargain with thieves,
nor scatter pearls
before mouths that only know
how to consume.

If you seek what I carry,
bring truth.

If you seek my hand,
bring your own
without a dagger hidden behind it.

Worth
is no longer spoken.

It is lived.

I hear the old blood
whisper through forgotten generations—
not demanding vengeance,
but demanding an end.

An end
to inherited wounds.

An end
to the debt that fathers
left for sons to carry.

The past has finally
found its grave.

What follows
belongs to those
who choose whether to build
or to keep digging.

So search your own reflection
before you search for mine.

Heal
while healing is still a choice.

Lay down
what has poisoned your hands.

Because every soul
eventually meets the weight
of what it has sown.

And when that hour arrives,

I will not be your judge.

I will not be your shield.

I will simply remain
where I have always stood—

Alone before God,

owing nothing to the voices
that once mistook
my silence
for ownership.