Chained to the wall
Cold stone floor
A little straw for your pillow
Your bathroom a pile of reed and willow
Imprisioned by an ignorant boar
Your once high hopes begin to fall
Whipped and beaten everyday
Told to confess to sins not your own
Abused until the night has come
Then pushed aside like scum
Finally alone you begin to groan
And weep until the sun comes out to play
Fear is worse than ere before
For today is your last
Last for suffering, and suffer you do
For once more the whip you accrue
But now the numbing is coming fast
Just as the realization that none rapport
Day turns to night
And night turns to fright
For tonight you will be the light
You're strapped to the stake, and they ignite
The fire burns hotter as it does incite
But all you feel is the rope so tight
As the flame and smoke pillar you lose your sight
And finally after all the pain you do not fight
You merely let your self into the bright white light
Author notes
Okay, so it could use a lot of improvement, but hey, I don't have the patience to put alot of time into it. What flows out of the keyboard is what I use. Interesting rhyme scheme. Yeah. Anyways, I should probably tell you what its about eh? Salem witch hunt. Back in the day, if a women possessed skills beyond what a man felt she should have, she was a witch. Pretty much it was mans way of fighting off eqaulity. Yeah, we can be asses sometimes. Anyways, said 'witches' were often beaten, and burned at the stake or hung. Lucky ones got to spend the rest of their lives in prison.
A contest entry
- Horrifying History by redmarkonthewall.
900 points, ended November 21, 2007, 16 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Get a new title, seriously.
You are one of the few people that acually either read and understood the criteria or just got lucky. Either way thanks for this poem it could use some work but over all it isn't that bad. You get your point across and that is good.
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