In the Dark Wood.

A Wise Woman, one of the few is she, to have solved the riddle
that unlocks the fearsome power of the Deep Magic.
Yet she sought nothing for herself, no rewards, no riches,
freely giving of its healing power to those who sought her help.
Acclaimed by rich and poor, she gave unstintingly,
her reputation growing with each healing.

A Witch, the Church called her, though she asked nothing,
sought nothing, and does only what they cannot,
despite their books and candles.

The stake was piled high, with wood and kindling
when they led her out, to be burnt.
Those that had sought her healing, condemned her,
jeered and spat as she passed, her good works so quickly forgotten.

Silent was she as they tied her tight, and wheeled a burning brand,
towards the pyre that was to be her fiery fate.
Her body still, only her eyes spoke of her sadness,
for the frailties of humankind.

As the kindling was about to be lit, she began to sing,
to sing the deep song, the one that had brought the world to birth,
creating sky, sea and earth.

Entranced, the crowd fell silent, their mischief
revealed to each and everyone. Yet, in their shame,
none spoke up for her, or ventured
to release her from her bonds, despite her good works.

As her voice sang out the words of creation,
the Deep Magic heard the song, took pity on her,
and displayed its disgust with the perfidy of mankind.
And so the flames that roared and leapt all about her,
consumed village and villagers, leaving only she and the pyre untouched.