You think you’re free.
You think you’re based, redpilled, awake.
But I’ve seen your shrines.
I’ve heard your hymns.
I’ve watched you chant their names with blood in your mouth.
Let me name them for you.
Tribalism—his true name is Belial.
He promises brotherhood but demands the exile of mercy.
He sits on a throne of bones and whispers, “Only blood matters.”
And you kneel.
Power—her name is Asmodea.
She seduces you with empires and thrones.
She says glory can be taken without a cross.
And you kneel.
Vengeance—his name is Abaddon.
He feeds you old wounds until your soul is more scar than flesh.
He says rage is righteous if pain is ancient.
And you kneel.
Pride—his name is Lucifer.
The oldest face. The brightest lie.
He told the first man, “You shall be as gods,” and you believed him.
Still do.
And you kneel.
You bow to these things.
You sacrifice peace, joy, your family, your future.
You hate Christ not because He is weak—
But because He won’t let you be kings without nails.
You call Him a slave god because you can’t kneel beside those you despise.
You’re not anti-globalist.
You just want a god who hates the same people you do.
But the true King came.
He didn’t wear gold. He wore thorns.
He didn’t take blood. He gave it.
And He’s coming again.
And when He does, many who said “Lord, Lord” will hide behind flags and statues and the ruins of the kingdoms they built in His name.
They preached tradition but rejected mercy.
They exalted power and called it holy.
They defended Christendom but never picked up their cross.
They mocked His Bride while worshipping Rome’s bones.
They kissed the chalice with unrepentant tongues.
They fought the beast by becoming its mouth.
He will not know them.