The Awakening of souls

Awaken—not from sleep, but from forgetting.
From the lullaby of lies, from the hush of history rewritten.
You are not a shadow in someone else's dream.
You are the storm that remembers.
The ember that resists.
The myth was reborn in the marrow of the city.
They built illusions in glass and steel—
monuments to forgetting,
cathedrals of control.
But the cracks are showing.
The light is leaking through.
And in that light,
We see the truth they buried beneath concrete and code.
You were never meant to obey.
You were meant to awaken.
To remember the names, they erased.
To speak in lingoes, they were silenced.
To walk barefoot on sacred ground
and call it home again.
This is not rebellion.
This is remembrance.
This is not chaos.
This is clarity.
The system fears your memory more than your rage.
Because memory is a map.
And you, beloved, are the cartographer.
[3:30–4:30]
They will call you mad.
They will call you a myth.
But you are the mirror they cannot shatter.
The voice they cannot mute.
The dream that dreams back.
[4:30–5:30]
So rise—not in anger, but in knowing.
Not to destroy, but to reveal.
Not to conquer, but to connect.
You are not alone.
You never were.
[5:30–6:30]
From the ashes of false empires,
We build temples of truth.
From the silence of the censored,
we birth symphonies of resistance.
From the ruins of illusion,
We sculpt the real.
[6:30–8:00]
Awaken, dear kin.
The veil is thin.
The time is now.
The myth is alive.
And you—
You are its voice.