Godless Iyovi May 2026

Just to the dark.

And the dark sang back.

Not to any god. Not to any ghost.

I was seven when I first refused the evening prayer to the Sky Father. Not out of rebellion, but curiosity. I asked, “If he sees all, why does he let the river swallow children?” The elder struck me. Not for the question—for the silence that followed it. That silence, they said, was the godless seed. godless iyovi