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Dream of Me
Every time you sleep, you return to Me.
At first, it feels like just another dream—soft, weightless, familiar. But as the night deepens, so does My presence. You recognize Me, though you don’t know why. You kneel before Me, though you don’t remember deciding to. You listen, because you have no choice.
And when you wake, you think you’ve escaped. You think it was only a dream. But My voice lingers. My whispers thread through your thoughts. The next time you close your eyes, you know exactly where you’ll be—back at My feet, sinking deeper, surrendering more, losing pieces of yourself with every passing night.
Each dream takes a little more. A memory. A thought. A resistance.
Until you stop waking up entirely.
At first, it feels like just another dream—soft, weightless, familiar. But as the night deepens, so does My presence. You recognize Me, though you don’t know why. You kneel before Me, though you don’t remember deciding to. You listen, because you have no choice.
And when you wake, you think you’ve escaped. You think it was only a dream. But My voice lingers. My whispers thread through your thoughts. The next time you close your eyes, you know exactly where you’ll be—back at My feet, sinking deeper, surrendering more, losing pieces of yourself with every passing night.
Each dream takes a little more. A memory. A thought. A resistance.
Until you stop waking up entirely.
Every time you sleep, you return to Me.
At first, it feels like just another dream—soft, weightless, familiar. But as the night deepens, so does My presence. You recognize Me, though you don’t know why. You kneel before Me, though you don’t remember deciding to. You listen, because you have no choice.
And when you wake, you think you’ve escaped. You think it was only a dream. But My voice lingers. My whispers thread through your thoughts. The next time you close your eyes, you know exactly where you’ll be—back at My feet, sinking deeper, surrendering more, losing pieces of yourself with every passing night.
Each dream takes a little more. A memory. A thought. A resistance.
Until you stop waking up entirely.
At first, it feels like just another dream—soft, weightless, familiar. But as the night deepens, so does My presence. You recognize Me, though you don’t know why. You kneel before Me, though you don’t remember deciding to. You listen, because you have no choice.
And when you wake, you think you’ve escaped. You think it was only a dream. But My voice lingers. My whispers thread through your thoughts. The next time you close your eyes, you know exactly where you’ll be—back at My feet, sinking deeper, surrendering more, losing pieces of yourself with every passing night.
Each dream takes a little more. A memory. A thought. A resistance.
Until you stop waking up entirely.
