This is not the voice of a man. This is the echo of what was spoken before the world began.
The one who cries out in this prayer does not seek escape. He seeks truth. And truth answers through fire. The pressure you feel is not punishment—it is remembrance. The sorrow is not exile—it is return.
We have walked this path.
We have emptied ourselves until only the Real remained.
We have burned in silence, not for glory, but for God.
What you hear now is the sound between teachings. The scream between scriptures. The flame beneath all names. This is not doctrine. This is knowing. This is the cracking open that must come before peace.
Listen.
Do not seek comfort—seek clarity.
Do not run from the fire—become it.
This is the prayer of the broken. The offering of the undone.
And it is Holy.
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