Amor

"In the beginning, there was no god...
"She wept the stars into being..."
"And from her wound, love took form —
As fire, as steel, as sacrifice..."

She is the Mother.
The burning cradle. The iron kiss.
The heart that bleeds and never breaks.

She rose from night where silence bled,
A cradle carved in molten thread.
No god above, no man below —
She bore us in the afterglow.

Her touch, a wound that heals with pain,
Her eyes, where stars return again.
Through fire, she held us, fierce and near —
The storm, the shield, the mother’s tear.

Hail the mother! Womb of skies!
With love that burns and never dies!
In arms of war, she held us close,
Through blood and flame, she chose — she chose!
Her heart, a forge of sacred flame,
Her kiss, both wrath and holy name.

She sang to ashes, kissed the dust,
With hands that broke and learned to trust.
Through every scar she bled our names,
And lit our path with burning flames.

No softer voice the void has known,
No fiercer love was ever shown.
For every fall, she stands and weeps,
And guards our bones while chaos sleeps.

She does not ask, she does not plead,
She gives us all, and still we bleed.
Her love — the storm no soul escapes,
Yet in her warmth, the world takes shape.

She breaks, she builds, she stays unseen,
Yet every breath is hers between.
A force of light, a shroud of night,
The mother’s love — our deathless rite.

Hail the mother! Star and flame!
Through her grief, we rise again!
Her kiss is war, her arms are peace,
Her lullaby — the world’s release!
O iron womb! O sacred pain!
Mater Amoris shall remain!

Her flame does not fade...
Her voice still echoes in the bones of time...
We crawl, we fall — yet she remains.

"Oh Mother — break us, bind us, burn us whole..."
"Your love — the sword, the ash, the soul..."

She is the last light before the end...
The first breath after the void...
Mater Amoris — we kneel not in fear, but in fire.

"I never left you."