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.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
