In the morn I was born
To a sky of thunder and storm.
Oh Heavenly Father, lounging on your throne
You gorged not me, but a stone.
For wiser and stronger I am
Though fivefold I lost to Your wrath,
Thrice that my waves have crashed
Brushing Past the shackles of Man.
The Past which left mothers forlorn,
The Wrath which left ****** scorned,
The Hate which left witches scorched,
All from lies, You, Father, told.
About the youth which the maid leaks,
The wisdom which the crone gives,
The freedom which the ***** seeks,
All truths which You twist and lead
To weave the hero’s lion pelt
To cement the ivory tower’s ascent
To sing life to the Prophet’s lament
All who become, Father, Your essence.
All who become right and divine,
Glory to them! Glory to thy!
Glory, Glory to thine scythe!
****** are the ones who defy!
The ones who bleed in sin
The ones who age and limp
Those who refuse to stay within
The guides of Your Holy whims.
Lowly and ****** You point and scream
Lowly is she who eats and thinks!
****** is she who f*cks and sleeps!
****** and Burned is she who dreams
For You, Father, fear the prophecy.
From these broods, come will she
To do unto You what You preach
Spouting from the womb You envy.
Envy, envy of what you crave,
To breathe life into a babe,
To know that in its veins,
It is Your blood that emanates.
And so those before me suffered,
Burned, ***** beaten, bartered,
Mothers, sisters, daughters, lovers,
All fresh lamb to the slaughter.
But Your prayers and preying failed,
For I grew, hidden in a cave,
Unbridled, unburdened by your gaze,
Did the Mother have me raised.
The Mother whom you call Gaia,
The one who named me a messiah.
I am not Your Eve or Pandora,
For I was raised to be Jupiter.
So I will have bitten no apple,
No pomegranates I shall nibble,
Cast aside will be Your bread and sickle
And with my thunder, the skies shall ripple.
For the tears the maid and mother shed,
The indignity the hag and harlot felt,
Their ashes scattered there, even yet
The crosses where they all bled.
So I, Jupiter, must ascend
Mother, sister, all I shall avenge.
Despite the roar and rage You have left
Fourfold or eternally, I shall collect
The forgiveness, the sorrow in our debt
For, I, Jupiter have ascended,
And my thunder shall be Your end.
May 22
May 22, 2026 at 2:43 PM UTC
In the morn I was born
To a sky of thunder and storm.
Oh Heavenly Father, lounging on your throne
You gorged not me, but a stone.
For wiser and stronger I am
Though fivefold I lost to Your wrath,
Thrice that my waves have crashed
Brushing Past the shackles of Man.
The Past which left mothers forlorn,
The Wrath which left ****** scorned,
The Hate which left witches scorched,
All from lies, You, Father, told.
About the youth which the maid leaks,
The wisdom which the crone gives,
The freedom which the ***** seeks,
All truths which You twist and lead
To weave the hero’s lion pelt
To cement the ivory tower’s ascent
To sing life to the Prophet’s lament
All who become, Father, Your essence.
All who become right and divine,
Glory to them! Glory to thy!
Glory, Glory to thine scythe!
****** are the ones who defy!
The ones who bleed in sin
The ones who age and limp
Those who refuse to stay within
The guides of Your Holy whims.
Lowly and ****** You point and scream
Lowly is she who eats and thinks!
****** is she who f*cks and sleeps!
****** and Burned is she who dreams
For You, Father, fear the prophecy.
From these broods, come will she
To do unto You what You preach
Spouting from the womb You envy.
Envy, envy of what you crave,
To breathe life into a babe,
To know that in its veins,
It is Your blood that emanates.
And so those before me suffered,
Burned, ***** beaten, bartered,
Mothers, sisters, daughters, lovers,
All fresh lamb to the slaughter.
But Your prayers and preying failed,
For I grew, hidden in a cave,
Unbridled, unburdened by your gaze,
Did the Mother have me raised.
The Mother whom you call Gaia,
The one who named me a messiah.
I am not Your Eve or Pandora,
For I was raised to be Jupiter.
So I will have bitten no apple,
No pomegranates I shall nibble,
Cast aside will be Your bread and sickle
And with my thunder, the skies shall ripple.
For the tears the maid and mother shed,
The indignity the hag and harlot felt,
Their ashes scattered there, even yet
The crosses where they all bled.
So I, Jupiter, must ascend
Mother, sister, all I shall avenge.
Despite the roar and rage You have left
Fourfold or eternally, I shall collect
The forgiveness, the sorrow in our debt
For, I, Jupiter have ascended,
And my thunder shall be Your end.
My name is Arabic for Jupiter. All my life, men have used and abused me, trapping me and hurting me. As a victim of patriarchy, I imagine having my own Titanomachy against the ultimate patriarch: God the Heavenly Father Himself.