This which shall follow, blasphemy, sin, an utterance evil, now must be said. She is referred to as mother divine, power manifest, and energy force rushing through the matrix of space time, past present, future, with a directive singular, mission defined. The most crucial of tasks entrusted to this extremity, with assurances of delivery, promise of faith, for failure cannot be accepted, lest the whole process need reboot again. She lives in our being, the composition upon that which composes, a web of reality fluctuating and frothing forth. Such entity one would normally assume from stereotype, to be an image serene, cautious, in control operating from a dignity of poise unattainable. A delicate balance, the seal a mark of supreme wisdom flawless, always calm; knowing exactly how and where to strike.


But then the recoil of gazing upon her hideous visage, nostrils flaring, teeth glinting, eyes bulging savage wrath and insane frenzy, wherefore does this chaos stem? He who knows her former grace lays down as appeal for reason, this madness cannot go on, yet this other is recognized not and trampled, disrespected, abused. Too late the realization dawns and tongue biting regret serves no purpose, everything must end now for we arrive upon the point of no return. How often can she be given license such, for even the divine will lay down some standard, evolution encourages not a retreat into the archaic, for it is a higher principle that needs fulfillment.


Another warning sounding through the heavens, stern and firm, this is no game and deliverance draws close, will we drop the ball?