The Sound of His Silence vision

The Sound of His Silence vision

Blog Article

The Sound of His Silence vision
By Roy Dawson, Earth Angel, Master Magical Healer

When a prophet receives a vision, it is never slow. It’s not like a gradual sunrise, where each moment is crisp, clear, and distinct. No. A true vision is a flash—a bolt of lightning that illuminates everything in an instant and leaves you gasping for breath. It’s a torrent of information, like a river suddenly swollen by a storm. The details come so fast that, even in their brilliance, they blur together. It's like trying to capture every drop of rain in a downpour, or listening to a thousand voices speaking all at once.

In the quiet of his own soul, the prophet stands. And then it begins—the vision.

It hits like a thunderclap. here is what Roy he sees and trys to explain best he could..

The man had always known something was wrong. Not in any overt way, not in a way that made the hairs on his neck stand up or his fingers tremble with fear, but in the pit of his stomach. A soft hum beneath the surface of everything, like an invisible thread winding its way through the moments of his life. He couldn’t escape it, and he couldn’t quite locate it. It had been there for years, this hum—a reminder that something wasn’t right.

His music, his soul, always flowing, always filling the space around him like an invisible river, winding its way through dark valleys, bright mornings, and quiet afternoons.

But the woman—a player—she was something else entirely. Evil, manipulative, and wrapped in a veil of sweetness. She moved into his life like a shadow at dusk, quick and cunning. She was smart in ways that men like him, men of music and feeling, could never fully comprehend. She smiled, extended her hand, then poisoned his cup when he wasn’t looking. And while he wasn’t blind, he was too deep in his own quiet world to see it until it was far too late.

He’d never been a rock star, not really. But he could have been. He had the gifts—raw, unrefined but powerful. His voice could shake the heavens, the tremble of his guitar could rattle your bones, and the rhythms of his heart could make the hardest of men weep. He had it all. But in this world—the world of the rich and the self-made, of the loud and the brash—you had to fight for what was yours.

And that was the thing—he didn’t fight. Not at first. He didn’t think it was worth it. The games, the hustle, the corruption—it was too much. He just wanted to create. To give the world his music. But that woman, she wanted more. She wanted everything. She wanted him small, diminished, to steal his fire and feed off his soul.

She wasn’t alone, though. There was another man, a ghost. A man who’d seen the fire burn brightly and then die out. A coward, really. Instead of fighting for what he wanted, he stole it. Slowly, piece by piece, he took what wasn’t his. The man’s life. His name. His legacy.

They forged papers. Stole his inheritance. Opened accounts in his name. Bought cars, businesses—all under his identity. Took out loans he never knew about. Ran up debts. All the while, they whispered behind his back, telling the world he was crazy, that he was delusional, that his dreams were worthless. They smeared read more his name. Painted him as a fool. A man who had missed his moment. They laughed while he struggled.

But the man was smarter than they thought.

He’d kept his head above water, using what little he had. His faith. His music. His spirit. But he never knew the depth of their deception—not until the day the papers arrived. The fake marriage certificate with his name on it. The website life insurance policy—the one that didn’t belong to him. They’d gone too far now. Taken everything. His music, his name, his life. They’d built their empire on his blood, on his back.

And still, he said nothing.

Then one day, everything changed. He saw the truth. It came to him like the turning of a page, slow at first, but then faster, like a river swollen after rain. The music website came back to him—not just the notes, but the rhythm of his soul. He felt it in his fingers, his chest, his heart. He had always been gifted, yes. But now, he was awake. He saw them for what they were, but most importantly, he saw himself—finally, as the man he was meant to be.

He fought. Quietly. Methodically. With the patience of a man who had been wronged, but also with the fury of a man who had nothing left to lose.

But it wasn’t enough. The woman and the man—neither of them stopped. They pushed deeper into their lies. They faked the marriage. Another man stood in his place. They forged his signature, took out a life insurance policy—all in the name of death. But what they didn’t understand was that they couldn’t kill what was already alive.

Their empire, built on his name, was rotting from the inside.

The world didn’t know it, but they were losing. They were losing in ways they couldn’t even begin to comprehend. The world saw them as untouchable. Rich. Powerful. But in truth, they were already haunted. The karmic retribution for their actions was coming for them, a wave that they couldn’t outrun. The riches they’d stolen began to turn to ash in their hands. The lies they’d lived with crumbled beneath the weight of their own deceit.

And still, they laughed.

They laughed at his struggle. They laughed at the fire that burned in him. They thought they were invincible.

But that read more was before the storms came.

The storm came for them, crashing down in ways they couldn’t have imagined. The whispers of their lies became howls in their ears. The stolen empire fell. The debts they’d piled up crashed down upon them. They owed him. A lot. Money, homes, properties. They owed him everything they had taken. And more.

Karma does not forget. It does not forgive.

The man had never been the fool they believed him to be. He had been waiting. Waiting for the moment when their storm would break, and when it did, it came with a fury that left nothing standing. His music became his weapon. His spirit became his shield. He fought with grace, with dignity, but in the end, it was the sound of his silence that broke them.

They had tried to destroy him. To erase him from the world. But in the end, it was their souls that died.

The man never became a rock star—not in the way they imagined. But his music was his salvation. His truth was his salvation. And now, the world began to recognize the sound of his silence. The whispers of his power.

The storm had passed. The wreckage of their lives lay before them.

And when it was all over, he stood. Like a lone tree after a fire. Untouched.

He smiled a quiet smile. No one would ever check here know the full story. But that didn’t matter.

He had the music. He had the truth.

And he had peace. With wealth. With health. And with the strength to carry on.