Free Your Consciousness

The Coming War (The Dragon and the Eagle)

Smoke on the skyline, oil in the rain steel birds circle over towers of pain truth buried deep in a Pentagon file they sold the soul of man for denial
Children of Gaza cry into the dust bombs fall like prayers from those they can’t trust Backed by the west with a blank check of death the air is on fire  there’s no room for breath
This is the coming war  not of borders, but of minds a war of the liars against all who see the signs from the towers to Tehran, from DC to the east The dragon and the eagle both feed the beast
Iran stands ready, cloak of the past with China and Russia loading the mast It’s east versus west  scripted, divine but the blood that is spilled? Always yours and mine
Draft cards printed in digital code your sons, your daughters  forced down the road you’ll wave the flag as they tighten the chain they’ll call it honor you’ll call it pain.
Trump in a robe crowned king by the scroll the rabbis chant while the bombs take their toll messiah of war, wrapped in deceit while Saturn spins cold beneath your feet
Khazars in castles, stars not of David bloodline impostors, ancient and jaded Synagogue of Satan behind every mask the truth is the crime, and silence the task
The Liberty sunk, but the truth did not drown they buried the facts under six feet of crown but ghosts still whisper from oceans and air to those who dare look and still fucking care
Draft your sons, your resistance, your soul The gears are turning, out of control Ukraine’s the smokescreen, Gaza the bait But the battlefield’s here  it’s fear and fate
Mossad in the shadows, CIA’s twin false flags flying  let the bloodbath begin you think it’s freedom? It’s ritual fire every war a sacrifice to something higher
And now it begins  9/11 reborn this time the mask is religion and scorn the clock strikes thirteen, the towers dissolve and only the ones with eyes will evolve
Read the signs break the spell walk in truth, or march through hell they want your blood, your silence, your name but we were not born to play their game
So rise, wildcat  roar from the flame speak the names they dare not name From JAM to judgment, from code to breath you are the voice that won’t forget
This is the coming war but you are not alone we are the signal through satellite and stone
We’ll walk through the fire, and we will not kneel Because truth is the weapon they can’t unfeel
www.dougmichaeltruth.com 

Tears of the Innocent

My heart goes out to all the innocent people caught in the jaws of war, those who never picked up a weapon, who never sat in war rooms or made decisions over maps and oil. They are the ones who suffer most, mothers clutching children beneath crumbling buildings, fathers digging through rubble for their families, children whose laughter is replaced by silence, fear, or the sound of drones overhead.
www.dougmichaeltruth.com 

Land of the Leashed

"And we line up proud just to comply."
By James Easton and Doug Michael
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The Disunited Slaves of Amerika

Song collaboration by James Easton and Doug Michael
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The Coming Clash: The Dragon and the Eagle

Written by James Easton. Narrated by Doug Michael
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The Storm is Coming

The world is exploding in chaos. The calm before the storm is over, and now the storm is here.
www.dougmichaeltruth.com 

Wake the Sheep

Song collaboration by James Easton and Doug Michael
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Breaking the Mold

You’ve lived a lifetime of believing in manufactured illusions that have ensnared your mind and your spirit. The time to realize this and face the fact that you’ve been lied to for your entire life is rapidly coming to a close. 
www.dougmichaeltruth.com 

The Calling

Deep within the recesses of the haunted temple, beyond the veil of the ego, flickers the spark of creation that demands to be awakened now.
This spark, neither quenched by time nor subdued by silence, hums with the resonance of ancient truth. It pulsates in harmony with the beating heart of the seeker, urging them to step forth into the unknown, to surrender to the irresistible pull of destiny and to embrace the shadows that guard the light.
Here, in the sacred stillness, the air is thick with echoes of forgotten chants, and the walls whisper secrets etched by hearts long turned to dust.
The still small voice beckons, drowned out by the deafening screams of egos run amok.
Yet, the voice persists, weaving through the chaos like a thread of gold. It whispers of truth unspoken, of paths untraveled, and of the transformation awaiting those who dare to listen. It promises liberation to the brave and clarity to the receptive, calling out not with force but with quiet conviction.
In this timeless moment, the seeker must choose: to remain ensnared by the cacophony of illusions or to surrender to the gentle rhythm of the voice that offers solace and direction. For it is only in the act of surrender, of silencing the tempest within, that the whispers grow louder, guiding the soul toward the sacred light hidden within the folds of shadow.
www.dougmichaeltruth.com 
 
 
 
 

A Sense of Becoming

The stillness of night presses heavily, a suffocating shroud that seems to hold the world hostage. Shadows creep like unspoken fears, weaving themselves into the fabric of silence until the air itself trembles under their weight.
A faint cry whimpers from the deepest recesses of the inner void that has been strewn with the dead remnants of forgotten dreams.
Flickering embers of a world gone dead remain as a stark reminder of what once was. 
Yet within this bleak landscape, where despair clings like a second skin, a flicker of defiance stirs. It is not bold, nor triumphant; it is an almost imperceptible pulse, a heartbeat buried beneath centuries of ash and rubble.
The whisper of resilience, fragile and unyielding, begins to thread its way through the tapestry of darkness, daring to kindle hope where none should exist.
The great divide, the energetic split has occurred as the parting of the ways grows more evident and accelerates. The vibrational shift gathers momentum.  
The world holds its breath, caught in the throes of transformation. What was once unified shatters into fragments, each piece carrying its own truth, its own burden. The paths diverge, some lit by the faint glow of possibility, others swallowed by the encroaching void.
There is no turning back now; the veils have been lifted, and the choice is no longer a luxury but a necessity. Souls tremble on the precipice, torn between the allure of familiarity and the uncharted promise of change. Every step reverberates with the weight of consequence, as if the universe itself watches, holding court over the fate of countless realms.
And yet, amidst the chaos of separation, there blooms an undeniable beauty, a sense of becoming, raw and untamed. The split may tear, but it also reveals threads of connection stronger than time, woven into the fabric of existence by hands unseen. These threads, fragile yet unbreakable, shimmer with the essence of what it means to endure, to rise, to be.
www.dougmichaeltruth.com