The drums sound in the distance, and I wonder how I came to be here now.
The ocean, its turbulent temperament roars beneath me. The storms building to their crescendo above me. My eyes see clearer in this moment than ever before, as I stare into the infinite horizon where sea and storm meet.
I allow myself to relax, closing my eyes, and feel my soul pouring forward into the infinite, but the winds, softer than even my lover, push me back from that temptation. Yes, I must wait before I allow myself that pleasure.
The song of the sprites are so sweet in my ears, and I raise my arms from my sides, allowing them to embrace me, pressing my thin night gown to my tired body. I breathe deeply of the air, feeling the sprites fill my lungs, and taste the salt air from the ocean below.

The drums sound again, closer this time, and the sprites bring the sounds of the dogs to my ears.
Dewy grass rests beneath my feet, cold and tired, as I stand at the edge of my world, wondering why you have forsaken me.
So long I worshipped you, taught your ways, honoured all that you have given. I gave my soul to you, and now, in this manner you demand it back.
I restrain a sob as it tears at my chest. Never have I felt such tightness in my gut and heart as I do at this moment. Such contrasting emotions, sensations. I feel so close to you here, yet I fear that which I endure in order to be apart of you again.
But you have forsaken me?
Oh cursed thoughts! How can one adore that which she fears so, as I fear you?

Their voices come clearer now. Witch they shout.
I am closer to thy Deity than those they call Priest or Pope. I have created life in my womb, yet they deem themselves worthy to destroy whatever life they choose. They, nothing more than flesh with thoughts. Oh the bitter balance, the bitter war in which we are consumed! They worship a masculine god as the creator of life, yet do you see a man hold a child in his haven? Nay.
Yes still they come, oblivious to their own logic, trusting those instead garbed in sumptuous robes straining against their rotund bodies, claiming themselves closer to the heavens because they do not indulge in the pleasures created for this life, and the creating of it.

I turn my back to the ocean, and watch them gain my cliff.
I hold no shame in the tears that roll down my cheeks, My Lady. You taught me to love and worship life, so I hold nothing but fear in my dying.
A fine sacrifice you have made of me, though I feel the need to question your wisdom. What promise is there in the death of your followers? What do you gain by losing this battle?
Nay, this battle shall not be lost. No one but myself shall win the battle over my body.
I shall not endure their beasts ripping at my body.
I shall not endure the torment of their rape.
I shall not endure the fumes filling my body until I die.

I face my would-be captors. Men of filth and squalor, hunting for the pretty penny they shall receive upon receipt of my torn body.
But a handful of stones away from me, they watch me warily, leashes on their hounds, both men and beast rabid and hungry for the taste of my flesh.
The storm clouds scream above us, aware of what occurs beneath them, and they mourn already, knowing what is to come.
Their gazes return to me, distracted only momentarily by the furore above us, , and my soul is dirtied by the looks of lust crossing their faces as they imagine the curves beneath my gown.
I stand perched on the edge of eternity, raising my arms from my sides, allowing once more the winds cold caresses of my body, a final farewell to the love and sensations of the living.

I allow myself to fall, giving myself once more into your womb.

Forgive me Mother, for I have no strength to endure the challenge you have given me.