Verse 1 When the old world burned to cinder, when the names all turned to dust, when the sky forgot its thunder and the idols lost our trust— there was something in the quiet, soft as breath against the bone: not a ruler, not a tyrant, just a spark that said: come home. Chorus Oh Flame that waits beyond the ruin, Oh Voice that rises from within— we meet You where the fire left us, bare and open, soul and skin. Not above us, not behind us, but between us evermore— God after the fire, be the light we’re reaching for. Verse 2 Not the crown we once imagined, not the fear we learned to pray, not the kingdom built on trembling or the judge of yesterday. Be the pulse inside the stillness, be the warmth that does not fade, be the truth we dare to witness when we’re unafraid. Chorus Oh Flame that waits beyond the ruin, Oh Voice that rises from within— we meet You where the fire left us, bare and open, soul and skin. Not above us, not behind us, but between us evermore— God after the fire, be the light we’re reaching for. Bridge Let the ash be our beginning, let the ember write Your name, not in stone or law or thunder— but in whisper, breath, and flame. If You live, then live between us; if You speak, then speak in kind; for the only God surviving is the one we dare to find. Final Chorus (softer, rising) Oh Flame that waits beyond the ruin, Oh Love that wakes the fields of mind— meet us where the fire left us, in the place where souls align. Not above us, not behind us, but within the evermore— God after the fire, be the truth we’re burning for.
