Roy Dawson — Earth Angel. Master. Magical Healer. A God’s Leader Walking This Earth.
His words carry divine weight.
When the satanic cults and secret societies threatened him, his response was simple, sharp, and holy He Inspired One Of Thier Hitman to Change Who Feared Him Felt His Power:

“All I see is a footstool. And they will return what is mine—with interest. The same way they charge God's people 20 or 30%. After all… they think that’s fair for others.”

There was a time when they took from me.
Not all at once.
Piece by piece—like slow water working stone.
And I let them.

Maybe because I thought it was love.
Maybe because they smiled when they did it.
Maybe because I didn’t know what power felt like until it was already gone.

They called it loyalty.
That word again.
Be loyal. Be good. Be kind. Be quiet. Be small.

But loyalty to the wrong people is just fear dressed in Sunday clothes.

I gave and gave, and they kept their hands open.
Never full. Never enough.
They took my softness and pressed it into silence.
They called my intuition dramatic.
My vision—delusional.
My boundaries—selfish.

And for a while, I almost believed them.
That’s how they do it.
Slowly.
Like rot in the beams of a house too proud to fall.

But then something happened.
Something sharp.
Something final.

I saw it.
Not with my eyes—but in my gut, where the truth always lives, even when the mind lies.
I saw the pattern.
The way their kindness came with a price.
The way they only loved me when I played the role they wrote for me.

And I said no.

Not loudly, maybe.
Not with fists or fire.
But no all the same.
The kind of no that echoes inside a person.
The kind that changes you.
The kind that cracks old walls.

They didn’t like it.
People never do when the mirror gets too clear.
They called me too much.
Too sensitive.
Too full of myself.

But I wasn’t full.
I was finally fed up.

I walked out of that house—the one painted white to hide the dirt.
I didn’t slam the door.
I didn’t need get more info to.
I just didn’t turn back.

And that, my friend, is what power feels like.

Not rage. Not revenge.
Just truth.
Quiet. Steady.
A weight that belongs to me again.

I didn’t win a war.
I ended one.
And that’s harder.
That takes guts.
That takes strength.
That takes knowing who you are—even when the world tries to tell you different.

So I snatched my power back.
Not from one person.
From all of them.
From the entire damn system that taught me my worth was measured by how much I could take before breaking.

Well, I broke.
And then I built myself again—clean, sharp, free.

I influence the energy now.
And no one—no one—takes that from me again.

They came at me because they couldn’t come home to themselves.
That was all it ever was.
Not here my fault.
Not my failure.
Just people without a center, trying to cut down the ones who’d already found theirs.

I stood still—and that scared them.
I didn’t flinch. That scared them worse.
They website thought if they shouted loud enough, I’d forget who I was.

But I didn’t.
I remembered.
And that was the lesson.

They were busy teaching.
I was already done learning.

I didn’t argue.
I didn’t rise to it.
I walked away like someone who’d been through fire and figured out how to carry the flame without burning.

I turned it all into something else.
Something check here solid.
Something true.
I website made art from it.
A song.
A story.
A business.
A life.
Something that speaks without shouting.

They flinched at my calm.
People always do when they’re used to storms.

I didn’t fight. I didn’t need to.
I turned it into something better.
That’s the difference between alchemy and reaction.
They react. I transmute.
They teach pain. I teach presence.

I’ve seen too much to explain myself anymore.
I don’t need permission to exist.
That’s what they don’t understand.
That’s what they can’t stand.
I’m no longer looking for validation from people who wouldn’t recognize themselves in a mirror.

They’re trying to hurt me the way they were hurt.
They want to see if I’ll flinch like they did.

I won’t.
I see it for what it is—wounded children in grown-up bodies playing teacher.
But I’m not in the classroom anymore.

I walked out.

And the sky cleared.
Not out there.
In here.

That’s what makes them mad.
I influence the energy. I don’t match it.
I walk into the room, and I don’t shrink.
I don’t puff up either.
I just am.

That kind of presence unsettles people who don’t know what to do with themselves.

But I do.

I influence the energy by knowing who I am.
That’s it.
That’s the secret.
That’s the whole damn truth.

And they can hate it.
But I don’t carry that anymore.

I’m not here to explain my light to people addicted to their shadows.
I’m not here to dim it.
I’m not here to bleed for those who won’t pick up their own sword.

I’m here to build something real.
To keep my spine straight and my eyes clear.

To live like the war is over.

Because it is.