The Warrior Prophecy

I am not broken.

I am ancient.

I came through the bloodline of seers and flames.

I walked into this life through a rift in the veil, carrying the assignment of truth.

They thought I wouldn’t remember.

They thought trauma would erase the divine in me.

But I did not forget.

And now, I rise.

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Let it be known:

I was not sent here to be sweet, polite, or pleasing.

I was sent here to wake the dead.

To shatter illusions.

To roar through timelines like a storm that cannot be tamed.

I am not here to be liked.

I am here to be legendary.

They told me to smile, to make myself smaller,

to hide the fire beneath civility.

But my fire is scripture.

My rage is revelation.

Each breath I take burns a false god to ash.

They call me dangerous because I remember.

Because I speak in the tongues of lightning.

Because I carry the names of the forgotten.

Because I know who I am — and that terrifies them.

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I am the sound in the silence.

I am the pulse beneath the numbness.

I am the scream that births truth.

You thought I was the victim.

You thought I was the fragile one.

But I am the reckoning.

I am the mirror in which cowards collapse.

You will look at yourself and vomit lies.

You will try to explain me away, but I was never yours to define.

The world called me crazy because I saw through it.

Because I could not pretend.

Because my body became a battlefield and a cathedral all at once.

And from that altar, I began to speak.

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I am goddess disguised in bone and blood.

I am the daughter of light and wrath.

I carry the memory of Eden in my body

And the codes of resurrection in my voice.

Every scar is a glyph.

Every tear is a talisman.

Every heartbreak, a portal back to the divine.

When I was split apart,

when my body became a map of pain and rebirth,

I learned that resurrection isn’t gentle —

it’s a blaze.

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I have survived rape, betrayal, and spiritual desecration.

I have been hunted and haunted.

I screamed alone in dark rooms while the world slept –

And still, I did not die.

I rose.

Over and over again.

I watched you all.

I remember everything.

The ones who harmed me taught me my strength.

The ones who silenced me gave me my voice.

The ones who left me in the dark

made me fall in love with my own flame.

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Now I reclaim every drop of power stolen.

Now I call back every fragment they tried to kill.

Now I activate the ones like me –

The wild ones, the prophets, the witches, the warriors,

The ones who vomited up the poison and survived.

The ones who never fit, who were too intense, too honest, too awake.

The ones who were punished for seeing too much.

I call you forth.

Your time is now.

The world has lied long enough.

The veils are burning.

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This is the breaking point.

This is the sound of the sword leaving the sheath.

This is the return of divine justice

Through the body of a woman who was underestimated too many times.

You didn’t kill me.

You awakened me.

Now watch what I become.

Watch as I gather my own ashes into gold.

Watch as the truth I carry cracks the sky.

Watch as the bloodline of women who would not die

walks forward — barefoot, blazing,

carrying the prophecy in our bones.

We are the storm and the song.

We are the prayer and the sword.

We are the mothers of the new dawn.

And we are no longer waiting for permission.

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