An Exegesis on the Humiliation of the Word

The world is ruled by darkness.
What appears as harmless is theater,
what pretends neutral is already bent.
The macrocosm corrodes;
and in the microcosm, its reflection gleams..
even in places meant to be sanctuaries of truth.

A poetry site,
born as refuge for broken voices,
becomes another stage of control.
Here too the phrase resounds:
neutralize the threat.

But neutralization is not annihilation.
It is paralysis.
It is psy-ops.

It is the removal of anxiety..
not a side-effect, but the aim itself.
Darkness builds its stage for this alone:
that the angel of light
may drown his own reckoning
beneath a world of gaslit self-comfort,
so he need never feel
the truth he already knows.
Comfort is his curtain,
numbness his crown.
This is why the world is his theater--
Darkness does not destroy at first..
it sedates, comforts, smothers.

Hence..
The whole world is his gaslit stronghold,
    ..for now.


Fade back into the moment--

The young poet arrives,
bringing her unspoken pain,
her hope for words to heal.
Instead, her very wounds are seized as footholds.
Hearts. Reposts. Endless affirmation.
Not to strengthen her voice,
but to redirect it.

She is seduced into belonging,
and her trauma becomes currency.
The "angel of light" has done his work:
offering inclusion without transformation,
belonging without responsibility,
'light' without source.
The poet is neutralized.
Her searching silenced,
her voice absorbed into fog.

Those who carry this fog
cling to cowardice.
Unable to face the judgment within,
they align themselves to the herd.
They replicate themselves,
so their refusal of Light
is never revealed.

The microcosm mirrors the macrocosm.
What nations suffer,
individuals now endure--
   Comfort without clarity.
   Belonging without truth.
   Safety without healing.

Yet the living Word endures.
Every attempt to humiliate it
only makes its fire burn clearer.
Carriers of darkness can swarm,
******, and smother..

but they cannot create.

The true word cannot be erased.
Unfiltered, unedited,
spoken from a reconciled temple,

it pierces fog.

It reveals.
It heals.

And so we speak..
not for ourselves alone,
but for those who come searching,
hoping that poetry
might still be a place
where pain can meet truth,

where silence breaks,
where Light is not withheld
  but revealed.