The Seal on the Artery


A Prophetic Poem

I didn’t choose the number— 
It found my neck like a whisper etched in thunder. 
A pulse beneath the ink, 
a frequency encoded on the lifeline of my breath. 

I speak life now. 
Even when I’m silent, 
the truth hums in my jugular— 
a secret code only the remnant recognize. 
144. 

Twelve tribes multiplied. 
Twelve gates opened. 
A thousand souls for every step I take 
on ground that’s been 
screaming for a voice like mine. 

Right side. 
The side of judgment, favor, and clarity. 
The side of action. 
The sword hand of Heaven. 
The shoulder where the mantle rests 
when kings get called 
from sheepfolds and exile. 

I wear the seal on my artery— 
not for protection, 
but as declaration. 
That I came back from the edge 
with fire still in my lungs. 
And I speak for those 
who’ve never known their name 
in heaven’s tongue. 

Let the anxious wonder. 
Let the fearful tremble. 
If they knew, they’d bow. 
If they don’t, they’ll learn. 

This mark ain’t a flex. 
It’s a frequency. 
A brand from a Kingdom not built by hands, 
but written in codes of blood and light. 

And when my voice rises, 
when the Lion in me roars— 
they’ll know. 
They’ll all know. 
The seal embedded was never for them. 
It was for me. 
To never forget who I am.
Location: Dallas, TX, USA

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