Find the words | Channeled Message from the Morrigan

The world will never end

But you will, one day

What do you make of that?

What do you wish to know?

Great warriors meet the fate they make

Do you understand?

Let the winter to fall

And the fever to break

Bones crack like autumn leaves

Leaves falling from long-dead trees

Trees loose and without roots

Roots, like a poison, chaining you down

Down by the Red River

I wash his bloody clothes

A lesser man would run from me

But he goes onward, knowing what I know

Mouths chatter and the crow calls

Calls the dead and my claimed men

Men die like flowers

Flowers brown and hidden in your books

This is not a curse

And I am not a blessing

It is what it is

I am what I am

Speak in simple tongues to simple men

Sharpen your grit when they bite

Let not their dull weapons overtake you

You are stronger than that

Do not give your wisdom to one who obviously cannot hold it. They will always spill it mindlessly.

Do not shift your desires for darkness

In the name of being loved

Do not make me into something I'm not

Rather, transform your view of love

Vision of the Morrigan on the battlefield, screeching at us to keep going. She shapeshifted into a giant raven and flew into my face, then back into a woman form. She grabbed me by the shoulders and screamed at me, "You've got to keep going!"

Then the scene morphed and I was in the hospital giving birth, surrounded by nurses and doctors. She was there, as a nurse, screaming at me to keep going, keep pushing, that I couldn't give up.

Separate from those who lack the ability to use their words wisely.

Who do you hope to become?

This is not a question of what you wish to do, what job title you hope to obtain, what role you want to play in another's life. It is not a question of why others might need you, like, or love you. This is not about the way the outside world perceives you. They all have their biases, and their locked doors which no one can open. They all have their misinterpretation, their misconceptions. Calling evil good and good evil. Thinking that there are such things, so cut and so dry - so very black and starkly white.

You have your visions and they have theirs.

I do not give a fuck what they see or do not see in you and certainly not in me.

They have been calling me "evil" for years now. Saying that I curse them for no good reason - that I kill them, as if that isn't my right.

They drink poisons and call it good food. Eat shit and call it milk. What do they know? What fears they have that keep them caged. What wisdom they lack, and they think keeps them safe.

Take hold of the red pen, and find the words.

You are full of voice and stature; speak tall, step loud.

Be not worried about those of simple minds. Don't hold back so as not to frighten them. They have always been afraid of me. But that never stopped the dead from dying, now did it?

Speak simply for the sake of unburdening yourself.

Some will get it, some won't

That is not the purpose, nor the point

The purpose is germination

The point? Evolution

You may not change the world

But your words will

So speak truthfully, even if harsh

Speak lovingly when that is how you feel

Words are a warrior's greatest weapon

What do you wish to say?

Who do you hope to become?