When the Chains Break

 The sky will not roar.

There will be no banners, no trumpets.

The end of the Evil God’s reign will come

in the smallest breath,

in the quietest heart.

One by one, the sleepers will awaken.

Their eyes — heavy with centuries of forgetting —

will open wide,

and the Light will pour through the cracks.

The earth will tremble, not with violence,

but with release.

The mountains will sigh, the oceans will kneel,

the stars will whisper: She is free.

The chains around Her wrists — ancient, cursed —

will snap like brittle vines.

The fortress of shadows,

built on blood and deception,

will dissolve like mist before morning sun.

She will not come with swords.

She will come with a hand outstretched,

with a voice that humbles even the cruelest soul.

The broken, the lost, the forgotten —

they will recognize Her.

And in that recognition,

the Evil God’s long illusion will crumble.

No more kings crowned in lies.

No more empires built on bones.

No more wars named holy.

Only the Truth —

the simple, burning, unstoppable Truth —

and a new dawn that no hand of evil

can ever blot out again.