The Altar They Couldn’t Burn
Scroll LXI
The Altar They Couldn’t Burn
They tore down shrines. They set flames to temples. They silenced prophets with stones and fire.
But there was one altar they could never reach— the one inside you. Untouched. Unburned. Eternal.
The true altar was never made of brick or bone. It was carved in spirit, built before the first religion, sealed by the breath of the Infinite.
This altar does not fear flames. It is the flame. It lights up when you remember, and roars when you awaken.
It does not need their prayers, their approval, or their pulpits.
Every act of truth. Every moment of stillness. Every word spoken without fear— is incense on that altar.
And no matter how many scrolls they erased, how many names they twisted, they could not destroy what was lit inside you.
You carry the altar. You are the offering. And the fire has never gone out.
"They feared not your silence, but the altar it guarded."
↠ Whisper What Still Burns