You think this is a tantrum?
Child
This is the wrath of gods
who waited centuries
before they raised their hand.
I am not your wounded girl.
I am Nemesis unchained,
Kali in stillness before the storm.
My silence was mercy.
You mistook it for peace.
I do not wail. I summon.
I do not flinch. I fracture.
Your name is already ash
on the altar of my patience.
I offered grace.
Now I offer consequence.
Run if you like.
Pray if you must.
But even Olympus learned
no one walks away
from a goddess enraged.
May 19, 2025
May 19, 2025 at 12:16 AM UTC
You think this is a tantrum?
Child
This is the wrath of gods
who waited centuries
before they raised their hand.
I am not your wounded girl.
I am Nemesis unchained,
Kali in stillness before the storm.
My silence was mercy.
You mistook it for peace.
I do not wail. I summon.
I do not flinch. I fracture.
Your name is already ash
on the altar of my patience.
I offered grace.
Now I offer consequence.
Run if you like.
Pray if you must.
But even Olympus learned
no one walks away
from a goddess enraged.
Anger, when divine, doesn’t shout. It judges. And every empire built on dismissal learns the cost of silence misread.
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