⚔️ The Dawnfire Invocation ⚔️

It’s not all men.

It isn’t you.

We see you.

We feel you.

We’ve felt you — always.

We’ve been looking for each other,

fucking it up,

getting sidelined,

figuring it out.

Some of us have just escaped hell.

The veil is thin.

Something’s in the air.

We’ve been nursing our wounds,

learning the weight of silence,

and we’ve been told to prepare.

It’s not all men.

Good men — it’s time to remember who the fuck you are.

The predators prowl like tomcats,

selling charm like counterfeit gold.

We grew up thinking that was normal —

a match made in hell,

a life full of harm.

But the only way out

was through.

When you walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

walk like you own the place —

and don’t stop walking

till you’re out.

Because we’re out here too —

the ones who see,

who burn clean,

who remember.

We’re the women who’ve walked barefoot through fire,

and the men who kept their hands steady on the wheel

even when no one thanked them.

We are light beings

who don’t lie.

We are psychic and sensitive,

and holy as hell.

We’re all energetic allies in the new world.

Not in dominance —

in resonance.

So rise.

Not above.

Beside.

Come out as who the fuck you are.

It’s not all men.

It was never you.

You — the watchers, the keepers of quiet strength.

You — who walked through flame and did not lose your heart.

We see you now.

Through the smoke.

Through the centuries.

Through the long night we all endured.

We’ve been looking for you,

stumbling through mirrors and myths,

each of us carrying our half of the code.

Fucking around and finding out, learning, burning,

coming home through ruin.

But look —

we made it.

The war is over.

The veil is thin.

The dawn is upon us.

We’ve nursed our wounds beneath a blood-red moon,

and now the drums are calling for creation again.

Good men —

remember who you are.

You were never the enemy.

You were the guardians, asleep at the gates,

dreaming of peace while the wolves wore your faces.

Now wake.

The world remembers you.

The predators are falling silent.

Their counterfeit crowns turn to ash.

The true ones rise —

steady, humble, fierce in love.

The only way out was through.

And we walked it —

through the valley of death and deceit,

through the long corridors of forgetting.

Through and out of hell with our heads held high.

And here we stand —

men and women,

fire and water,

the sacred twin flames of the new world.

So stand tall.

Not above — beside.

Not as conqueror — as creator.

Because the light we carry now

is forged from everything we lost.

It burns clean.

It burns true.

And it burns together.

Welcome home.

The war is done.

Let’s build the garden again.