They came for our grain before they came for my life.They rode in at dawn. Dust on their cloaks. Steel on their hips. They looked at our fields and herds and saw easy meat. We had no armor. No walls. No iron gates. Only hands that knew work and eyes that knew hunger when they saw it in other men.By their measure we were naked. I knew better. I had

The Skip in the Record There are days when nothing moves. You work and sweat and push, and nothing changes. You try harder, and it only gets worse. You feel like a man stuck in mud—fighting it only pulls you deeper.When that happens, most men grow bitter. They curse. They lash out. They fight the world like it owes them something.But I learned a

???? THE ROY DAWSON. THE ROYELVISBAND.Seattle. Songs. Scars. Soul. Women love his high-vibration energy.They call him a singer-songwriter lyric god, but that doesn’t even scratch the surface. Roy Dawson isn’t just an artist—he’s a force of nature. Walks like a freight train—slow, steady, heavy, and impossible to stop. If you’re in his p