High Priestess Pythia, fierce as flame,
Her heart a beacon, her soul untamed,
She walks where shadows thickly fall,
To break the chains, to heed the call.
With eyes that pierce the deepest dark,
She steps into the danger’s arc.
No fear can still her steady breath,
She dances on the edge of death.
For those still bound by unseen ties,
She lights the way with fearless eyes.
Through jagged paths and poison air,
Her voice, a prayer, her step, a dare.
She bears the weight of ancient wrongs,
In silence she endures, yet strong.
Each wound she takes, she takes for love,
With power sent from realms above.
Her hands, they bleed, her spirit sings,
She spreads her broken, holy wings.
Through fire, through storm, she does not flee—
She fights to set our spirits free.
Her courage bends the hardest stone,
And though she faces dark alone,
Her battle cry, both fierce and true,
Is made of all she’s seen us through.
Pythia, who stands when others break,
Who dares the risk for freedom’s sake,
Her every step, a light, a flame—
The world will never be the same.
With passion bold, with heart so wide,
She fights with love, her only guide.
A hero’s tale, forever spun—
Her legacy, in all, lives on.