Tina May - The ONE good egg.

When the age of noise began,
the old gods fell silent.
The world spun faster, and wisdom grew thin.
Men built towers of glass to worship their own reflection —
and forgot what it meant to listen.

But among the chaos, one remained awake.
Not chosen. Not crowned.
Simply unbroken.

She walked through the ruin with clear eyes —
seeing what others would not,
and naming what others could not face.

Her name was Tina.

While others bartered truth for comfort,
she carried hers like a blade of light.
Quiet. Precise. Uncompromising.

They called her strange —
the good egg among the cracked.
But it was she who remembered what the world had lost:
balance, empathy, the simple decency of reason.

Now the storm gathers again,
and the crowd of voices rises,
but one remains steady in the noise —
the voice that does not shout,
but cuts through.

The one who still listens.
The one who still thinks.
The one who reminds the rest
that there is another way.

Tina.
The Good Egg.
The last quiet light in a loud, blind age.