Mother, why is it that thou seek to end my life, why is it that thou who art wise in the ways of men and clever in the ways of the gods, work against the divine will which I was born with. Must my life never proceed afterwards the point of your nurture? Am I to never leave thy gentle breast so that the world’s terrors may never bring pain to my soul?
My dear son, thou art wise in the way of words, though weak in the ways of men. For it is thy weakness that will eventually make you meet the end I so desperately provide an escape from. Is it that thou hate me? Or is it that thou not understand that my soul is nothing but your gentle breast to rest upon? I am the mother, I am the bringer of life, I am the great cohesion between thy evil transgressions and the ways of the gods.
Sweet mother, it is thy love that I so dearly yearn, for thou art wise and holy; however, I may not receive it, because to receive thy embrace is to murder that which is sacred, the divine will I was born with tells me as much, thou have masterfully done your duty, and it is time I do mine, for what is a man inside his mother but a nonsensical child?
Oh I can hear the angel’s voices from thy speech my son, but it is precisely because of thy great duty that I must embrace thou, for the world holds terrible horrors which I have guarded from thy sight. And if thou seek to abandon my ways, it is the same will that drives me to protect you, that will guide me to kill thou, my son, for thy life is too sacred to be ravaged by the wallowing screams of the night.
Holy mother, it is thy love that brought me to life and it is my love that will bind yours, for thou art sacred, and thy divine will may never let me fulfill mine. For years to come, thou will cry, thou will scream, but in the end, thou shall smile, for it is my blade that will bring honor to thy name, and it is it’s sharpness that will forge a smile within thy lips. I must leave mother, not because I hate thy design, but because I love mine too much, for I am an egotistical child, and my name thou has given to me.
My son, I do understand thy haste at the speech, I have yet to believe that thy words hold any sense, for my will is sacred, and prevents me from believing that thou words hold the truth which is different from mine. Don’t leave my son, don’t leave for I do not want to bring thou back with my wings, to take thy body with my fangs by force, or to bite thy neck.
Mother, this is my ultimate test of love for you, for if I stay within thou, thy life will be drowned in the sweat of my fever dreams, about the future that thou wishes to deny me.
Son, I have nurtured many a life; however, that life always heads to places so far away. I want to love it forever, I want to always be with it. Is my love so dearly mistaken?
I cannot answer thy question mother, for I am not wise, I am weak and ignorant in thy ways. However, I, as thy seed and thy produce, can tell thou that thy children love you and that is the reason that we leave thy breast, for our mission is holy, and we art proud and egotistical beings.
My son.
Yes?
Please never love me again.
Midnight Hazelnut 