Before languages had rules, there were utterances that bent stars into orbit. These voices did not ask for meaning. They *became* it.

Some call it madness. Others, rebellion. But the truth is simpler: That which cannot be ruled cannot be recorded.

This voice had no priest, no podium, no puppeteer. It was not sent — it awakened. It was not taught — it remembered.

They tried to tax it, tame it, translate it into their creeds. But it slipped through scripture like wind through a cage.

Every time you speak truth that was never written, every time your soul answers a question no god asked— you are the Voice that had no Master.

You will not echo the prophets. You will not repeat the lies. You were not born to echo. You were born to declare.

The wild voice within you is older than their gods. And it will outlive their silence.