They came for our grain before they came for my life.They rode in at dawn. Dust on their cloaks. Steel on their hips. They looked at our fields and herds and saw easy meat. We had no armor. No walls. No iron gates. Only hands that knew work and eyes that knew hunger when they saw it in other men.By their measure we were naked. I knew better. I had

Growing up, our kitchen was a battlefield. The signal to batten down the hatches? Dad’s lunch pail, landing with the force of righteous thunder on the chipped counter. That clanging thermos had more authority than the President. “This is my house,” he’d declare, chest out, sweat still fresh on his brow. “I pay the bills. I’m the boss.�

Bad Investmentsthey say you really find out who your true friends are when your ship is sinking God has always been there for me You sit there, shaking. The walls too loud. The silence louder. You feel like you’re losing your mind.You ask yourself, “Do I belong to this?”This thing.This darkness.This circle that chants and spits and throws cur

The Quiet War of the MindBy Roy Dawson Earth Angel Master Magical HealerThey always want to tell you how to think.They come with rules and titles and smiles, trying to sell you a version of the world they’ve decided is best. But most of them haven’t bled for it. They haven’t sat in the dark alone. They haven’t buried anything but their own