Self Sovereignty

The forest stands in sacred stillness, its trees tall and marked—charred bark, hollowed scars, and roots that remember everything. The burn is visible, but it no longer defines the ground. At the base of these witnesses, small green sprouts emerge, bold and tender against the ash. Moss gathers in quiet rebellion, refusing to retreat. Shafts of golden light pour through the canopy, not to erase the past, but to honor it. The air carries both memory and momentum. This is not a return to what was. This is reclamation. The forest breathes—rooted, risen, and ready. What once burned now becomes the soil for truth to grow. This is where rebirth begins.

I am Liberated

I am Liberated There comes a moment when everything shifts—not because the outside world changes, but because something within rises to the surface and refuses to shrink … Read More