The Mother of Monsters

Based on an image By Josef Fadel Simon

Behold Her, the Mother of Monsters
born of the Primordial Abyss and the First Winter

I remember my birth quite vividly: the sliding down the fleshy tunnel from where I was created, born from mortal seed and her blasphemous egg. I remember how I screamed, when I beheld the light for the first time, as I was dragged by pious men out into the world above.

Behold Her, who birthed the Insect and the Bat and the multitudes of Vermin,
whom Gods tore asunder for fear of her.

From a young age, my voice commanded the things in the night and the dark places. My eyes made out the shapes and the sizes of the Things That Dwelt In The Corners. My ears knew the meaning of their clicking and the tone of their slithering. My tongue could form the commands, the prayers, the intonations to the dark things, the language bestowed to me by my Mother.

Behold Her, who dwells in the dark places, the damp places, who slithers across the ocean floor and casts her shadow on the Moon, who devours Hope and Produces Nightmare.

The pious men died when I came of age, withering and dying by either accident or scheme. It would have been an offence to my Nature to spare them. They perished uttering Her name, that was my true name as well. For they saw her countenance reflected in mine, made whole, waiting to be born.

Her Eyes are the pitch-black mirror that reflect Terrors.

In the days before Light, the Gods tore my Mother asunder, denying her the full extent of her power. 

He Mouth gnaws at the pillars of Creation.

A vessel was required, that she could be made whole.

Her Breasts drip the Milk that makes fertile fields barren.

The daughter, laden with divine childbirth, would in turn birth the Mother. 

Her Great Eye sees Man, judges Man, beckons Man and withers Woman.

Endlessly turning, perpetually devouring its tail, spins mad Ouroboros, never truly sated, thinking himself the Absolute Totality of Existence.

Her Cunt is the Maw that vomits Monstrosities.

She grows inside me now, her presence brought about by the act of her Agents. I feel her push against the walls of my womb, press against my belly, clawing and tearing at the flesh inside, desperately seeking to get out.

Where her shadow falls, the world grows dark and shuns the Usurper Sun.

The world grows dark where my shadow is cast. Her fangs, her talons dig their way out of my body. Soon, Mother will be free and whole again. And I will be the glorious Martyr, the reversed Virgin.

And the World will be restored to the Primordial Darkness, freed from the Tyranny of the Usurper Sun.

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