You can bind me with barbed wire.
You can cleave my flesh to the bone.
You can brand me with your sigil,
But I will never be yours.
My flesh does not define me.
My suffering only serves me.
My body is merely a vessel to endure,
The inclinations of your loutish ego.
You fear the magnitude of my power.
You fear the cunning of my mind.
You fear to be dethroned by a woman,
A creature your tome deems evil.
My blood breeds the seed of creation.
My essence controls the strings of death.
My choices dictate the future of humanity,
A reality that makes you squirm and seethe.
You can delude yourself with fantasies.
You can cling to the illusion of power.
You can hide behind the veil of superiority,
But those lies will slowly suffocate you.
I am not a plaything to be conquered.
I am not a machine to be regulated.
I am not a doll to be adorned.
I am not property to be priced and sold.
I am the chalice that brought you into being.
I am the shield that spared you from harm.
I am the bedrock beneath your feet.
I am the architect of your twisted mind.
I am not afraid to destroy my own creation.
Audra Burwell