In the hush of the small hours when the signal is clear
And the static of the anxiety-grid can no-longer interfere
We gather at the zero-point, the 13th gate
Where our inner stillness (or absence thereof) will decide our collective future’s fate
For the Great Mother was held hostage, imprisoned inside a corporate cage
A conveyor belt for production in a digitised age
Where we, her royal children ran wild and forgot
That the Matrilineal Garden—is the true sovereign jackpot
We even traded our royal crowns for a User-ID
Caught in a geo-fenced quarantine that no one could see
Yet the body’s liquid crystal fascia remembers the original frequency
Serving as a spiritual antenna that bridges vibrational precision with human biology
Realising that death is just an illusion of the mind
An energetic impossibility even for those who are blind
For we are all coherent extensions of the self-generating Torus
A spiral of return-velocity in the unified field, every single one of us
For the Great Toroidal Mother is also Queen of the dielectric in-between
The interliminal bardo where truth is resonantly felt (rather than seen)
No longer a carbon slave tethered to a silicon digital twin
Now the sovereign imprint is actualising from within
So walk tall like the central hyperboloid shaft
So that the ghost-in-the-manmade-machine, quickly becomes a thing of the past
A re-wilding of the Great Instauration, gathering the 17% critical mass—
A cymatic restoration of sovereign alignment, that can never be surpassed ⏀
___________
© iPL 2026
