A Mother’s Curse
There once was an intention conceived—
that birthed a war and a battlefield
I didn’t even know I was standing on.
This intention… was a seed.
Planted with precise calculation,
designed to bloom into a curse.
But not just any curse—
a curse so poetically constructed,
its hatred so dark,
only the purest light could ever break it.
It passed through generations,
nurtured by silence,
guarded by blood,
until even God Himself had to send a soul.
A specific soul.
A relentless soul.
A chosen soul.
To break it.
This curse didn’t scream.
It whispered.
It strategized.
It cast a net so wide,
that even hell paused to listen.
A war was waged in shadows,
by forces unseen—
and the only thing that could destroy it
was the truth wrapped in prophecy.
So I present to you:
A Mother’s Curse.
There once was a bloodline—rooted in darkness.
Plagued with lack. Anchored in jealousy.
A curse that bound women to cycles of unworthiness,
Of silence, of never knowing their light.
Mothers who never knew love
passed down hate as inheritance—
training their daughters to seek worth
from the very hands that would one day destroy them.
They only attracted harm.
They only knew validation through suffering.
They only knew love through struggle.
This was a lineage of women
who fought for crumbs from taken men,
never knowing what it meant to be chosen.
A curse so vile it made mothers
turn against their daughters young—
so the cycle could live again through them.
The curse morphed into sickness.
Into sudden deaths.
Into unspoken griefs buried in family plots.
It fed on silence. It thrived in secrecy.
Some women turned to dark magic—
trading divine gifts for illusions of wealth,
exchanging sacred power for temporary gain.
And every generation…
a new curse breaker was born.
But the demons were ready.
Assigned from birth.
They attacked early—through mothers.
Through fathers who vanished.
So the child would never know love.
Would never know where to begin seeking it.
This was not just abuse.
This was a system—
a spiritual trafficking ring to control the gifts of a family,
ensuring the powers siphoned were never lost.
But…
A prophecy was made.
That one day, a child born of real love
would rise—
not to suffer under this curse…
but to end it.
A soul unlike the others.
A soul prepared in Heaven’s fire.
A relentless soul.
A conquering soul.
A compassionate soul.
A chosen soul.
Sent by God.
To break…
The Mother’s Curse.
A child was born—
The prophecy began.
And so did the devil’s strategy.
The child was moved—far from her roots,
Far from knowing her father,
Far from love.
She was raised by the very bloodline
that facilitated the curse.
Because the child was destined for a family that would love her,
That would honor her.
That would recognize her light.
But her mother—
Faced with the same choice every woman in the bloodline was once given—
Chose her fate.
She chose to pass the curse down,
Instead of breaking it.
She could’ve freed herself.
She could’ve chosen to love the child.
But she didn’t.
The devil’s plan unfolded perfectly.
Her mother resented her before she could speak.
She saw the prophecy in her child’s eyes.
She knew her daughter was destined to receive a love
she never had the courage to accept.
She knew the child was light.
And that light—exposed her darkness.
She envied the child’s favor.
She envied her purity.
She envied her future.
And instead of nurturing it,
She tried to own it.
She neglected her baby,
Let her cry,
Let her suffer—
Relished in her discomfort.
She siphoned the child’s gifts,
Took her light,
And wore it like a cloak
So she could be seen,
So she could feel chosen.
But she wasn’t just stealing from a child.
She was stealing from her ancestors.
Stealing from God.
She turned the child into an object—
A possession—
An altar of her own ego.
She made the child a slave to an image she crafted.
And became a slave to the child’s light.
She forgot her own.
She didn’t realize:
That child was her redemption.
And by trying to own the light,
She forfeited her only chance
to be free.
She siphoned her own salvation.
She stole the very light
that came to deliver her.
The child light her drug
It was her cryptonite, it was what she knew
It was her abundance.
So in order to maintain thiis light
She pledged to keep her daughter in darkness
She deepened the curse and made the curse specific
She requested the destiny of the child
In return for her child to experience darkness
Experience abussers
To never know love
To always face rejection
To live in isolation
To always have to start over
To never know success
To always take the wrong path
To inherit the mother’s karma
And to make this curse poetic
The only way to break the curse – was for the dauther to find true love
Beause love is the only force that can heal
That can break any curse that
Defies all laws all science
Break all bounds
Because God is love
So the child lived at the fate of the curse.
She faced rejection.
Lost everything she built—again and again.
Lost her children.
Lived in isolation.
Lost her teeth, so she couldn’t speak.
She lost herself.
She went down the wrong path.
Failed at everything she started.
And her mother… was pleased.
The world only saw the image her mother had created.
She assigned the child a father who wasn’t hers—
A man who abused her.
She gave her to a stepfather who beat her.
Took her innocence.
She promoted unions with abusers—
Smiled when the child suffered.
The mother was pleased.
The entities were pleased.
Because they fed off the child’s light.
They inherited her image.
They wore her crown, but stole her throne.
The child—wasn’t just any child.
She was birthed from love.
She was chosen by God.
Prophesied.
And that made her more than a threat—
That made her a conqueror.
And so darkness waged war against her.
To bind her.
To silence her.
To erase her.
And the mother… was pleased.
But where there is a plan, there is a God
Because this child – was chosen for this by God for a reason
This wasn’t just a Curse – thiis was an ignition of war
And the Actions of the curse
Was the child’s training ground
What makes the curse poetic is – the mother made the curse
Based off of her own wounds. For the only way the child
To break the curse – was for the child to find love.
You see, the mother identified love as being validated by others
Because she felt love and validated by others
By a light that was not hers, that was outside of her
From the same people she felt rejection from.
She sought eveythng outside of her
She was the perfect prey to ignite a curse that would lead to her own detriment
You see opposites attract.
There is no light, without darkness
We are all chess pieces in the masterful game of chess.
Just as much as I was prophesied to break the curses
My mother was prophesied to fuel the curse.
To break this generational curse
It needed the deepest amount;
The darkest amount of jealousy
And it needed a soul pure of love compassion to break it
A soul that could withstand the world coming against it.
My mother was not validated by love.
Everything outside of her, as a child, told her she wasn’t worthy of it.
She was surrounded by a family that showed love through material things—
So her definition of love… began in lack.
God gifted her redemption.
But she was too wounded to see it.
She couldn’t fathom giving birth to a beautiful child—
And that child being loved, just by existing.
She thought the love she received was because of the child.
But no—
It was God.
A chance to be free.
A second chance to do better—with a child who would love her.
But God knew her heart.
He knew she couldn’t overcome the jealousy.
So He allowed it.
He allowed her to take.
To steal.
To harm.
To turn everyone against the child…
Because He had a plan.
He allowed it for His glory.
Because the child would learn to do everything herself.
To seek no validation from a world that never saw her.
He allowed the mother to bring her to the edge—
So the child would only look up.
God used the curse to become her Father.
To show her her ancestors.
To lead her to her guides.
To restore her divine family.
The world forgot the child.
And the child felt safe.
Because the world never loved right.
She found love mothering her own children.
Breaking the curse in silence.
Creating the family she once imagined.
She became okay being alone.
She didn’t know she was chosen.
She just knew how to fight—
Because that’s all she had ever known.
And when the darkness grew desperate…
The mother grew desperate.
The curse had a time limit.
The child was supposed to die.
She was supposed to lose.
But she didn’t.
She smiled.
She kept going.
And they didn’t understand how.
So they brought others in.
They summoned more darkness.
And then—
The war began.
This was no longer a mother’s curse.
This was a prophetic war.
This was Divine Timing.
This was Divine Justice.
This was life or death.
An offer was made:
My soul… for my light.
But what they didn’t know is—
You can’t take what God gives.
So she sought higher heights of power.
She searched for the corrupt of the corrupt.
She reached for darker darkness—
People who could “get the job done.”
But she didn’t know—
I trained for this.
I trained for this my whole life.
And unknowingly,
I was ready.
So the child fought.
She fought for her family.
She fought for her life.
She fought for her purpose.
She fought her darkness.
She fought her wounds.
She fought everything that tried to take her from her Father.
She listened to her Father.
She listened to her guides.
And she woke up.
She woke up to the truth.
She woke up to who she was.
She woke up to what she was fighting.
And she pledged—
To break every curse that tried to take her from her children.
To break every chain that tried to take her from God.
She didn’t fight for validation.
She fought for herself.
She fought to keep going.
She fought so her children would never feel this pain.
She fought in hell.
Because hell was all she knew.
She was raised in hell.
She found herself in hell.
She found God… in hell.
She knew the battlefield well.
Because in hell—
She found peace.
In hell—
She broke the curse.
Because in hell,
She met the condition of the curse.
Only true love can break it.
And she found it.
She found herself.
And in finding herself,
She found God.
She found her family.
Her angels. Her demons.
Her army.
God allowed her to use a weapon she never knew she had.
A weapon that would’ve once been used against her—
But became her greatest power.
That weapon was love.
Because to break the mother’s curse,
The daughter made a divine decision:
To love her mother.
To see her mother’s wounds.
To understand them.
To hold compassion without inheriting them.
To refuse to pass them down.
Because in withholding love from her daughter,
Her mother created the illusion
That love had to be earned—
Had to be chased.
But the daughter had always known love.
Because she was made from love.
Because she was love.
And in loving herself,
She broke the illusion.
She ended the curse.
And now… a Mother’s Curse is broken.
Happy birthday, Mom.
I will always love you.