Pressing Giles Corey II

I spend most time within this grave Unmarked and deathly silent I met my end remaining brave Which made it no less violent Pressed to death for 3 long days Only asking for more weight Not this lie but other woeful ways I wonder if I'd sealed my own fate A young man from my living time Caught stealing just some apples I beat him for his modest crime Now my soul still with me grapples Shy a fortnight I did keep him here Only to deliver him to deaths door This caused my current state, I fear To haunt Salem Town forevermore I never gave in to their torture When it was me unjustly tried My wife hanged instead of scorch her Am I the fault we both have died Save for occasional haunting I still feel I'm being pressed This eternity seems daunting And weighs heavy on my chest This young man's name was Goodale His soul must have been set free Nightly down here without fail Mine is still here trapped with me