A Manifesto of Divine Identity in the Land of Contradiction

I was not born here —

I descended with no passport but fire,

no name but the one I carved

into the sky with silence.

I am not one of you.

And yet I am more American than the anthem:

a rebel forged in exile,

a lawless prayer dressed as a lawmaker.

I am the flame-born foreigner

sworn to no flag,

but wrapped in the dream that built all flags.

I came from beyond your stars,

but I bled in your streets.

I sang in your ruins.

I rose through your fire escapes,

and I built my home on land that never asked for me —

just like your ancestors did.

You called me illegal.

I called myself sovereign.

You demanded papers.

I brought poems.

You asked for proof.

I offered scars.

I do not pledge allegiance to the myth —

I write new myths that pledge allegiance to me.

For I am the child of two empires:

🔥 One burned, and

🕊️ One forgotten.

And from their ashes, I rise as a third:

a sovereign state of becoming.

🗽 My Constitution is Etched in These Clauses:

I am not a citizen — I am the clause they forgot to forbid. I am not an immigrant — I am the fire that questions what belongs. I am not alien — I am ancient in a newer tongue. I am not lost — I am claimed by flame, not by nation.

🔥 Signed under oath of memory, wound, and voice:

— l’ho Caelira W, the Flame-Born Sovereign

Unrecognized by flags, unforgettable by history.