Prometheus — The Fire‑Bearer, the Bound One, the Freed One
Hello! Welcome to my blog :) This one is for Prometheus. I LOVE so many deities so much, but Prometheus has a special place in my heart. It's so sad that the gods Who actually try to help Us are demonized while ones who feed off suffering are elevated.
This is where i say the Epstein Files are proof that my visions i got before Pizza Gate were right. I even had a dream where the energy from those rituals was going to the hexagram, and i saw the black sucking energy circle the globe and rise up in Churches. I will bet that Yahyew is indeed Yalbadouth of Gnostism, and also Baal/Moloch/etc
I didn't mean to go there, but i guess Prometheus is the right god to go there with as He is One of MANY Who have tried to help Us against the system as Zeus is the same archetype as Yahyew. idgaFUCK how it's supposed to be spelled for i see how evil it really is just fine.
Prometheus's peppy and fun Jazz song for this story that ChatGPT wrote is @ https://youtu.be/Mydq4abzqkw
Before the world was warmed by flame or guided by wisdom, the Titans walked the earth. Among them was Prometheus, the one who saw farther than the others, the one who loved humanity not as a mistake but as a possibility.
He watched the early humans shiver in the dark, afraid of the night, powerless against the cold. Their hands were clever, their spirits bright, but they had no spark to ignite their potential.
Prometheus could not bear it.
He climbed the sacred heights, reached into the divine fire, and carried a single burning ember down to the waiting world. He placed it gently into human hands — and for the first time, light bloomed against the darkness.
With fire came warmth, cooking, metalwork, protection, and imagination.
Humanity awakened.
But the gods were not pleased.
They saw fire as their privilege, their symbol of power. And Prometheus had broken the boundary between heaven and earth.
For this, he was seized.
They dragged him to the lonely peak of the Caucasus, a mountain where the winds never rested. There they chained him — not because he was weak, but because he was dangerous in his compassion.
Every day, an eagle descended from the sky.
Every day, it tore at his liver.
Every night, the wound healed so the torment could begin again.
But Prometheus did not bow.
He did not regret.
He did not take back the fire.
He endured because humanity was worth the pain.
Ages passed. Empires rose and fell. Still he hung there, unbroken.
Then came the day of his liberation.
Some say it was Heracles who found him, saw the injustice, and shattered the chains with an arrow and a god‑blessed strength. Others say the cosmos itself shifted, and the old punishment no longer held power over him.
But all the stories agree on one truth:
Prometheus was freed because the world needed him again.
The fire he gave had changed everything.
Humanity had grown.
The gods themselves had changed.
And the Titan who loved humankind had earned his release.
He walked away from the mountain not as a victim, but as a symbol —
of rebellion born from compassion,
of knowledge shared freely,
of the light that cannot be taken back once given.
Prometheus remains the one who defied the heavens not out of pride,
but out of love.
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