Human beings in a mob, What's a mob to a king, What's a king to a god, What's a god to a non-believer?

I dare myself the same question. Quiet echoes of doubt throb inside me. An appointed chair shake their heads in disappointment. Their eyes are burning the back of my neck, As if I could start an uproar.

But what is faith if it is forced, What obedience if it is coerced? It's fear. Not fear derived from the constant need for acceptance, Not fear fuelled by approval, But the plain fear of consequences.

We dare lift our heads to look past it. The doctrines carved from divine law, That dictate you no more than a tyrant over his own people. But do we ever hear from those who find the courage to pay no mind? To feel what they feel inside?

NO.

Their voices are shunned, Because they will refuse this hearsay. This "unequivocal" cause. I bear the mask of shame, bearing the unlawful blame. Because I am a heretic, So listen to me clearly, not merely. Listen to my last echo before I seal my own oppression. Not as a warning etched into your fear, Not as another name to be buried in your books.

Listen, because what you label as deranged is purposefully arranged.

It first starts with "yes", A simple yet heavy word. Once you sell your soul, You don't feel the weight at first, It settles slowly.

A nod becomes a habit, Silence probes you to agree, Until it becomes second nature.

Until you no longer realise, You have sold your sanity to their insanity.

It's a cycle of cynicism, A turning wheel disguised as progress, Spreading across our own skin, Until it stains so much, We stop realising the blood we bleed, And the sustenance we need, Is the same poison we were taught to survive on.

Now I welcome you my friends, To the "brotherhood". The worldwide family of open arms, and closed minds, Where we call it unity, And the cycle means salvation.

A loss of innocence I've come to. A liability to my own certainty.

Is there an extent to what we will excuse in the name of truth? Is there a point where we will question the voices that taught us to believe?

Today I stomp and shout and scream, Until I'm numb, Until the vengeance that gnaws at me is my entire being.

Because I am a heretic, And I have unleashed what the cycle could not contain.

So continue living your lie, The version of reality you polished just enough to hide the cost of faith.

But may these words be forever etched in your heart:

I am a heretic