The Woke Press

In an age when the ancient warning of Scripture burns with renewed urgency, the modern press has become the chief architect of moral inversion. Once tasked with shining light into darkness, today’s dominant media outlets—driven by ideology over truth—systematically call evil good and good evil. They glorify the destruction of life as “reproductive rights,” cheer chaos and lawlessness as “social justice,” redefine biological reality as oppression, and brand dissent, merit, and tradition as grave sins. This is no mere bias; it is the fulfillment of prophecy.

Verse (Isaiah 5:20)

Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!

In marble halls where truth once held her throne,

A serpent scribes now twist the sacred line;

With gall for ink and venom for cologne,

They crown the night and call the daylight crime.

What Heaven forged as good—the hearth’s firm chain,

The merit earned by sweat and tempered steel—

They brand as curse, as patriarchal stain,

While lauding sloth that turns the soul to meal.

The unborn child, a spark of deathless flame,

They carve from womb and christen “choice” sublime;

The rioter’s torch, the looter’s lawless claim,

They hail as justice, pure and serpentine.

Man is not man, nor woman woman wrought—

They geld the flesh that Nature’s chisel shaped;

“Liberation!” rings for every lusting thought,

While gagging speech that dares defy their tape.

Old borders bleed, ancestral virtues scorned,

The savage crowned, the builder shamed and shorn;

They cheer the mob, the guiltless newly adorned

With sins their sires never dreamed or borne.

Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil—

Thus spake Isaiah in the KJV’s pure fire;

These editorial choirs in priestly guise

Flip Heaven’s scales and nurse the devil’s choir.

Yet Time’s sharp blade shall strip their painted veil,

And History’s ledger, pitiless, decree:

The press that knelt to fashion’s fickle gale

Served not the light—but Hell’s own liturgy.

Thus falls the reign of inverted sacred lore;

The remnant stands; the reckoning draws near,

When truth, unshackled, storms the liar’s door

And wakes the world from this demonic snare.