Witch

They took her screaming from her hovel
and on the ground they made her grovel
She'd done no wrong this poor old dame
but they took her just the same

They said her crime was still extant
and so from it she must recant
She would not bow before their lies
but no-one listened to her cries

They took her to the village square
and bound her in a ducking chair
Three times they ducked her under water
Confess to them, she knew she oughter

But her will was much too strong
and she knew she'd done no wrong
So they tied her to a stake
around her, a pyre, they did make

And as the fire quickly burned
to her tormentors she then turned
and said, "This fire that burns me so
you'll feel it, when, to hell, you go."

You burn me out of fear and hate
Your ignorance decides my fate
Your torment will last for all of time
Your punishment will surely fit the crime

For only once can you burn me
in the name of Christianity
then from pain I'll be set free
but you will burn eternally"

And all because she knew folklore
and what ailments to use herbs for
An awful death that crone did meet
because of one small vestigial teat

strengthverse

♡Like0

Poem

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.