O woman, o woman, I know what you’ve become.

I have seen what you will suffer, accept, and even consecrate, and I have beheld the obscenities you will bequeath to your daughters in the name of your sons. I have watched you gaze into the eye of fevered, frenzied hate and pluck from it the mote of love you need to live. I know you of old, daughter of man; your faces change, but your story never does.

O woman, o woman, I fear you’ve been undone.