To Live, Kill Your Mother
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Commit an attempt to unseal the proof. Write your answer — right or wrong, thinking it through is the point.
What am I?
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My life is death, for life and death are one; destruction precedes new light, and my parents are the spirits of the dead, of whom I am their sole offspring.
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My mother is Earth, and my father is Prometheus; two pointed ears govern me from a hollow belly. In a pitiful fall, my mother divided me.
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I have endured more than one body should. I carried three souls, all nurtured within me. Two are gone, but the last one barely survived.
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I bear a human's name after their death. The name remains empty, though sweet life has fled. Still, for the good, there is life after life's time.
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Born from the fruitful womb of a bristly mother, I wait for green fodder to fall to me from above; and if my first letter died, I would bear the name of a god.
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Dissimilar from my mother, I have a different form from my father, a confused breed, not fit for my lineage, born from others, yet I produce nothing myself.
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