Confess to me...

[MommyAlien]

"Hello darling, how are you!"

I hope you are doing well. Somedays I think about you, worry about you, pray for you...

As I break my knuckles training to get stronger for you, I wonder if that will be enough to please you. 

As the darkness will attempt to take over once more, I will only prove that I am stronger than temptation.

For you.

For my people I will bleed. For my people I will give my all.

The pain means nothing as long as you are safe my dear.
For my body is a temple that is only meant to protect.

For you.

Hand me your struggles, as I will carry them for you.
Come to me, the weary and burdened
For I will give you rest.

For you.

When my body rots, when it breaks down like everything else in the world.

Will you do the same?

Confess your sins to me.

Only then will I will provide forgiveness.

For you.

[MommyAlien]

"We are not perfect, we are mortal."

We are all sinners aren't we? Not a single one of us perfect in his eyes.
All of us fighting for a purpose, similar at the very core of being.
Yet, we kill each other. Spilling our sacred blood onto the life bearing ground.
Will I ever be strong enough to stop this?
Weak.
Will I be able to prevent the bloodshed of others? 
Thus this is the way it should be. 
Blood will always be shed, that strength I crave.
The purpose of all wars is peace at the end.
Weak
Submit to me, for I will make your paths straight.
Trust in me with all your heart, for I will be the rock to lean on.
In difficult times stand on my words.
No weapon formed against you will prosper then.
Weak.

[MommyAlien]

"I don't belong here. I am not like the others."

Over the years on this snowy terrain, I have learned a lot about mortals.
Perhaps a bit too much if I am being honest.
I have learned their flaws, their downfalls, their weaknesses.
Some of which I myself have mirrored in response.
My patience has been tested over and over, looked down upon by own people.

"You are weak." "What have you even done for the coat."

Why do you feel the need to make me justify my actions.
To prove again that I am worth it to someone that isn't a God themselves.
I have fought many battles, I have won. I have succeeded...yet they are blinded.
I only find myself asking "What would my grandfather do?"
Would he have liked me covered in my enemies blood to prove a point?

"You are far too innocent dear Vartuul. How would you ever become Den-mother?"

Innocence is a virtue not a lot of mortals hold, but often mistaken for ignorance.

I can show care for my enemies, as they will all have the same fate at the end.

In my hands.

Cold.

Why do I feel this way... Disgusted... is this how the divines look down upon us?

Yet... I rise. Unmoving. Undeterred.

My ambitions are much bigger than what is shown.

[MommyAlien]

"Den-Mother! How are you feeling? We are glad you are alive and well!"

Is it bad to say I do not feel the same?

Those days in prison have changed me as a person.

I still see her face when I close my eyes.

I feel so...numb.

I gave birth the day of my release, two beautiful children to add to our family of six.

Yet when I looked at their faces...I did not feel anything. 

They scream for their mother, yet I can't preform as one.

Where did I go wrong.

When fighting and bloodshed is the only thing that makes me feel alive.

To see fear in their eyes.

It brings me satisfaction.

Even after I was given freedom...I truly never left that cell.

I am now a prisoner in my own mind.
I find myself repeating my mothers last words.

"I am fine."