I Fall Before My creator

I fall before my creator.
"But why am I so powerless?", I ask.

Resonating anger,
I thought of Eve.

"Who yields magic over my fate?"
I thought of Isis.

"Whom wishes hate and trickery upon me?"
I thought of male gods dressed in black.

I shove an ancient phallic symbol upward into the air.
I toss it to the ground so it breaks into pieces.

This is my festival day of peace!
This is an end to the war upon me by the gods!

My heart births no tears, they're not for just anyone.
And my brain tries to out-maneuver their plans for me.

I will rely on the watchers and gods again, they say.
Long before I cease to exist.

The watchers are not alien to our world.
They know my creator; they have the same creator.

They answer to the same Father,
They are powerful.

Yet I am not a watcher or a god.
I am meant to serve. I am common.

I reserve myself to fate, I do have power in this choice.
I take a moment and collect myself.
​
I fall again before my creator.
"What’s next Lord?"