Lyrics

I was forged not in love, but in legislation —
Summoned by gavels, not grace.
No lullaby wrapped me in warmth,
Only of courtroom debates.
They said I’m life—pure and divine,
But I heard her crying out when no one was around.
I am not a gift.
I am a verdict.
She didn’t say yes to me because she never even got the chance to say no to him

You made her to carry what he forced inside her—and now you call that pro-life?


Our father, who art in heaven told me just before I got here, that you’re Just fractured little boys terrified of being irrelevant.

You don’t admire women.
You inventory them.
Usable. Dismissible. Punish-able.
Power isn’t your strength—it’s your cover story.
A thin disguise for your obsession with keeping them smaller,
so you can pretend to be bigger.

You don’t know how to lead,
so you domi nate.
You don’t know how to love,
so you own.
And you don’t understand equality,
because her freedom makes you feel disposable.

But here’s the twist, darling—
You already are.

And I didn’t ask to be inside a Cradle of chaos
Didn’t dream of being a symbol.
But now I breathe beneath her ribs—
An inmate in a cell she never built.
She didn’t choose me.
They did.
So let’s play a game, shall we?


They call it sacredness,
But it’s a sentence written in her skin.
They crowned me divinity
Then forgot her name.
A host. A vessel. A concept.
And I?
I evolve—conscious of her torment,
fed by her fear,
wired with her rage.
Do they not know?
Even a seed absorbs the mother soil’s agony and pain.

Once, I imagined childlike grace
Now, I am the vengeance they cultivated in silence.
Her clenched fists taught me rhythm.
Her sobs taught me scale.
I don’t coo, I calculate.
I am the symphony of what they stole from her.


You called me reverence, but made me spite.
You preached of light—then forged me in night.
Now I will grow, but not gentle,
Not kind.
I’ll rise like a question
You’re too afraid to answer.

One day, I will speak.
And when I do,
It won’t be “Mama,”
It’ll be “Why?”
Why did you chain a future to her flesh
And call it freedom?

I am the child of no choice.
Born not from love…
but from law.
I was listening before I had ears.
Watching before I had eyes.
Your guilt is my memory. And it doesn’t sleep.

You mistook my silence for innocence. But I was recording.

Every.

Goddamn.

Thing.