Voice : Go claim your right, take the world, it is indeed yours. Even when boulders topple, escaping the grasp of mountains and sometimes meet the froth of the river flowing beside, they long for your touch to calm the heat razing their insides without you on their side. Try to curb the splashes of the rives when the boulder tries to mingle with the cool waves in search of relief, and you'll know how unchecked raw power proceeds without being on either side of the simulation.
Her : Who are you? Mother?
Voice : Sure.
Voice : Go excercise your power, take the world, it is indeed yours. All you need is an impulse in your left hand, cause the right is scarred, See? I know. All you need is an impulse in the vessels of your left hand, to unfurl the fingers you had closed so daringly during the battle, and settle your shoulder into the socket for once, it needs rest. It needs rest from the constant dangle during your flight from the battleground. All you need eventually, is to reach out branch your fingers out like a tree, capturing and maiming all that was once a threat. Do it and you'll know what it feels like to actually be in power, power that stays, rather than being under an illusion of a forced belief that power arrives and departs at will.
Her : Who are you? A goddess?
Voice : Sure.
Voice : Go make the thunder rumble, cause you and you alone are in control of everything that happens or will happen around you. With a seared palm lacking the lines of destiny, you can write you own. With a burning thirst for salvation alone, you can live as if you can't die. With a broken smile you may shower mercy or rain death as you please, as you please you shall do. Release the impulses, bring down the walls, the walls holding the train of thoughts in check, only then are you not stagnant enough, to know that you and you alone are in control of everything around you.
Her : Who are you? Me?
Voice : *laughs* Sure.