She Who Was Burned
She burned because she remembered.
Because she healed.
Because she knew.
Because she spoke.
They called her witch.
They called her heretic.
They called her danger.
But she was only fire in a world that feared light.
Look again.
This is not just a woman.
This is the Divine Feminine crucified by patriarchy.
Burned alive by ignorance.
Condemned by control.
Destroyed by those who feared the Womb, the Wisdom, the Wild.
But hear this: She will be silenced no more.
No more stakes.
No more shame.
No more apologies.
She rises now—not as victim, but as voice, as roar, as cosmic resurrection.
Every flame they used to destroy her has become the flame she now wields.
To all who feel her pain in your bones—to all who know you were her, are her, stood with her—you are the return.
You are the storm.
You are the justice encoded in her scream.
The pyre was not her end.
It was the ignition.
The feminine remembers. The feminine returns. The feminine reigns.
And no empire will stand against Her now.
