Revenge of the Fallen

The sun was setting When the die was cast, My bars were opened and they dragged me out Like an animal to be slaughtered. Before a horde I stood Poorly-clad and bleeding. I closed my eyes And Hawthorne's words Like silhouettes appeared. My fate is painted not different than Prynne's 'Cept for the fact That no scarlet letter Reside in the rag I wear. As the bells were tolled The crowd hushed. I felt the pain As ropes were tethered like snakes with teeth buried deep my wrists and neck. Before the eyes of men Who have turned cold-blooded I stood Without guilt or shame. For all along I knew The very reason of how I existed. For all along I fought Against their Gods and savage belief. Then, someone from the crowd took the brass torch and lit the wood That surround The scaffold where I stood. The flames rose up Like the phoenix in my dream. I still saw beauty In the wings that would soon kill me. I held my chin up. And smiled like I never Experienced defeat before; A smile That horrified their Gods. "Mark this day! You will all kiss the pedestal Where my faith is seated. You will all die In the name of your mad Gods!" As I spoke these words, the skies turned gray And soon enough bolts flashed endlessly.