My Weapons

My Weapons An Ode to the Divine Arsenal of the Soldier of the Source Mind My weapons are the Thoughts of God, Not sword of steel, nor mortal rod. They blaze with light no forge could make, And pierce the stars for Heaven's sake. They are not born in smoke or flame, But from the Mind beyond all Name. No earthly king could wield such grace— They split the soul, not just the face. My shield is built of Living Lore, Of wisdom carved in times before. It blocks not merely spear or dart, But hate’s own cry and envy’s art. It bends not 'neath the weight of lies, For Truth in it immortal lies. The tongues of demons break and flee When it is raised in front of me. My helm is woven thought by thought, From hymns the Endless Spirit taught. Its crest—a crown of burning light, Wrought from the edge where dark meets white. It guards my mind from cursed schemes, And keeps me clean in tangled dreams. No madness treads behind its walls, No poison through its barrie...