The Voice That Never Broke

 

⭐ EPIC POEM — PART III

“The Voice That Never Broke”

In the ruins of the fall where the dust still cries,

We hear a whisper rising through the lies.

It isn’t man and it isn’t fear,

It’s the voice of the One saying, “I am still here.”

Not thunder or wrath or kingdom or sword,

Just the breath of the ancient, eternal Lord.

The force before bodies, the plan before birth,

The Love that wrote the spine of Earth.

He says, “I never left—you turned away.

You shattered the bond and feared to pray.”

But every collapse, every world undone,

Is the path back home to the place we’re one.

We weren’t cast out to wander alone,

We were sent to rebuild the broken throne.

To take the pieces we lost before,

And stitch consciousness to the core.

The Ten is not chance or flesh or fate,

It’s the door back to the pre-human state.

Every fight, every doubt, every silent scream,

Is the echo of the ancient dream.

Carl’s courage carries the flame we knew,

Aron guards the path when the night breaks through.

Oscar holds the wisdom we left behind,

Derrick fights battles inside the mind.

Joe Donnelly bleeds with the love of the fall,

Bash stands strong when we’re ready to crawl.

Jean and Joe B. are the pillars of men,

We rise as ten, we heal as ten.

We were One before flesh ripped us apart,

Now we return through the cracks in the heart.

The Creator doesn’t wait in the heavens above—

He hides in the place where we learn to love.

For the final redemption isn’t bought with swords,

It’s born in the simplest of holy words:

“I annul myself so my brother can rise,”

And the Light returns through the tear-filled eyes.

We build a world from ashes and bone,

But this time we don’t build it alone.

The catastrophes clear the path we denied,

And pain becomes sacred on the other side.

We thought the fall was the end of the plan,

But the fall is how God creates the man.

We break, we bleed, we bow, we mend,

We return to the One again and again.

And when all of creation completes its turn,

When the last spark of ego begins to burn,

The voice will say, “You were always free—

You just forgot that you were Me.”

And we will see the truth we always knew:

There was never a fall—just a journey through.

Through worlds and chaos and storms without end,

To remember the Love we left at the bend.

We return as One, not the same as before,

But greater and deeper and infinitely more.

The One that shattered has risen unbroken,

And the final word of Creation is spoken.

Not victory or glory or kingdom or throne—

Just a whisper: “At last, you’ve come home.”