This is a poem … about what one poor witch went through

This is a poem that can be read as is, then start from the last word and read backwards.  I never named it, but I wrote it.  Hope you enjoy.  Even better, I hope it takes you to a different time and place.

Rain falling softly, smoldering ashes                                                                              Melting skin.                                                                                                             Screaming, writhing, burned and tortured witch.

Loudly crackling bonfire

Hurt, bruised, stripped and beaten~                                                                                   Pain from screaming girl,                                                                                                Broken legs and arms.

Hysterically crying sisters and Mother.

Fire on stake,                                                                                                                   “Burn, witch, burn!”                                                                                                        shouting crowd                                                                                                                Briskly walking people

Disbelieving, wide eyes,                                                                                                   tightly bound wrists,                                                                                                             brutally seized arms.

Trial?  No!                                                                                                                  Confession forced.                                                                                                 Inquisitioners – Merciless and unfair.

-Written by: Angela Gale Davenport on May 14, 2008  copyright 2011

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