They use her name but they do not know her and she does not know them.
They move like a pack of hyenas, destroying cities and places of worship, spilling innocent blood and spitting on the downtrodden, the very people she lives to protect. She screams with rage from the deepest pit of the Duat, cursing the mortals who dare profane her name.
She was the great goddess. Mother. Midwife. Creator. Healer. Queen of Heaven. Her breasts swelled with life-giving milk and her tears flooded the fields and gave sustenance to her children. But she was the patron of the downtrodden and enslaved, and when the Hebrews invoked their great and terrible God against her own children, she alone remained silent. She sympathized with their plight and watched with approval as they left for their promised land and she was content with the belief that she had seen the last of them and their strange ways. But she was wrong.
The worship of the Hebrew God spread like wildfire, igniting the minds and hearts of men