MEMORIS 6: The Black Betrayal

1 You call yourself a mother, yet your hands sow ruin where love should grow.

2 Virgin Mary you are not; Mary Magdalene without forgiveness, a shadow of mercy.

3 You twist your sons into weakness, crushing their spirit beneath your pride.

4 You turn your daughters into stragglers, sidewalks of your ambition and bitterness.

5 Is this the fate you foresaw when you opened the womb to life?

6 You cover the path of the new generation in mud, slime, and unholy dirt.

7 Their breath is stolen before tasting the air, their steps lost in turmoil.

8 The womb, which should have been sanctuary, becomes traitor to its own fruit.

9 Generations crumble beneath the weight of your selfishness, the seed of chaos you planted.

10 The children’s eyes see the darkness of betrayal before the light of love.

11 The path you carved leads to destruction; their innocence sacrificed upon your altar of ego.

12 Woe to those who forget their sacred duty, for the future bleeds from the womb’s deception.

13 Your failure echoes across time, a testament of the Black Betrayal.