Songs of The Abyss

The Many Faces of A Goddess

How can we give a goddess a single name?
Each name holds a deeper meaning than it seems.
She rolls her eyes in playful annoyance, for she wants to be called by her name.
And yet sometimes I fret to say it out loud because I feel unworthy.

But with her smile, she reminds me of her nature.

I see a fiery aura surrounding her, with glimmering black eyes and massive wings.

So let's call her the mighty black-eyed dragon.
A stunning creature of the shadows that breathes wildfire.
Strong and agile, always willing to fight and defend her honor.
She will not cower against curses, swords, cannons, or arrows.
A being so powerful that not even the spear of destiny can pierce her obsidian scales.

But she doesn't want to be a dragon.

No, so let's call her a sunflower, which stands in a field of lilies, instead.
She stands out in a crowd with vibrant colors and fragrance.
Her voice pierces through the noise of the world and takes hold of those who wish to listen.
Her sweet essence, most enthralling, has taken hold of my soul as she wraps her fingers around my heartstrings.

Her elegant petals are alluring to all kinds of creatures in God's Garden.

My sunflower is unique and unlike any other.

But she doesn't want to be a flower in a field.
She doesn't want to stand out.
She doesn't want to be alone.

She wants to feel like she is part of something.

My flower wishes to be something greater.

Let's call her something else, something more abstract.

So, if that is the case, let us address the fire in her virgin soul.
The woman on fire—yes, what a fitting name for a girl like her.
The sheer will and commitment she possesses burn through forests like wildfire.
That passion and thirst for life she's got is unparalleled to that of the world around her.
She, the moon herself, gives us her silver glow, day and night, though we do not deserve it.

The woman who walks through flames.

But she doesn't want to be the woman on fire.

She doesn't want the responsibility of being a deity.
She doesn't want to clothe the sun and not have the moon at her feet.
She doesn't need a twelve-pointed crown or an altar to be raised in her name.

She doesn't wish to be worshiped or placed on a pedestal.

She doesn't need to be revered.

So, let's simply call her an inspiring muse.
That should be more tame, right?
A muse who inspires poems, tales, and songs on a daily basis with a single gaze from those coffee-colored eyes.
That little life that grows ever stronger and reaches ever higher, further, and deeper each day.
That soul that lusts for life, success, and glory and works for it.

A true warrior, one might think. Wow, what a woman, no?
No, but see, she doesn't need all this.
She doesn't want a pedestal; she doesn't want songs to be written about her; she doesn't even want to have to fight anymore.
She is tired of the tests of life.

She needs to rest.

And it's okay.

She is strong, but she is also afraid.
Sometimes, she simply wants to be held.
Sometimes, she just wants a cookie and chocolate milk.
She needs to hear she has done a good job and that she is more than enough.
She needs to know everything will be okay.

And it will. Because I will remind her every day in every way I can.
Sure, she may have many names. She may be:

A goddess
The Moon
The sunflower among lilies
The flaming rose
An angel
A dragon
A princess
A warrior
A warrior princess
A muse to poets

But in the end, she just wants to be seen as she is. A human, with perfect imperfections. Pure and raw. Plain and simple. Without flowers or crowns, auras, or halos. Sometimes, she just wants to be what she was intended to be.

She simply wants to be Angelie.