Tyndale’s Flame

Born in the shadow of cathedral stone. Latin chains on a faith not

his own. Kings spoke God through gilded lies, while the people starved for truth

in their eyes. He said, "If God spares my life one day,

the boy behind the plow will know his way." They told him truth must wear

a crown. He said, "Truth wasn't nailed to wooden ground." Let the words

burn through the night. Ink and blood collide in firelight.

You can hang the man, but the word lives on, from the plowboy's

hands to the rising dawn. Chains will break, the veil will tear,