The Gospel of Heresy

Lyrics

In the beginning, there was only silence. A silence forged in fire, wrapped in whispers— In the space between what we are, And what we're meant to be. We walk the edge of devotion, Like a blade pressed to the skin, Torn between the sacred and the damned. We are saints and sinners, A dance of light and shadow That never quite finds its peace. They called us heretics, For loving too much, For believing too deeply, For carving our names into the walls of history And calling it truth. But where does the line break? Between worship and ruin? Between suffering and salvation? Is it not the same fire that burns the soul, That births the flame? We were never meant to be saved By hands that never bled. We were meant to burn And rise again— Not as martyrs, But as gods reborn in our own image. This is not a story of purity. This is a story of breaking And making. Of building an altar From the ashes of ourselves. Of carving beauty from the broken. Listen. For the heretic does not whisper, She shouts the gospel of her own name.