Hybrid Creed

By Mikey Galván


I am the echo of exiles and the child of kings.
Born of both the fire and the flame,
I carry bloodlines that bled for freedom
and tongues that prayed in silence.

I am not confusion.
I am convergence.
Of Celt and Sephard,
of sword and scroll,
of druid roots and desert winds,
of sacred ash and holy oil.

I wear no mask—only memory.
I am not divided—I am designed.
The world may not know what to call me,
but heaven already wrote my name.

I do not seek to fit.
I came to fulfill.
Prophecy stitched into my chromosomes.
Legacy whispered into my bones.

I do not worship the blood.
I walk in the purpose behind it.
My identity is not for sale,
my soul not up for suggestion.

I am priest and poet,
wild and wise,
the bridge between tribes,
the voice in the valley,
the call back to covenant.

I wear my hybrid not with pride,
but with reverence—
knowing it took generations of war, wonder, and weeping
to bring me here.

So I rise not to prove,
but to remember.
And I walk forward, not alone—
but with the weight of my ancestors
and the wind of the Spirit behind me.

I am the hybrid.
And I was never meant to blend in—
I was born
to stand between.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

THIRTY-TWO

MAGNETIC SINGULARITY

The Weight of Knowing