The Silent Cry Poetry Collection

An Innocent Soul in a Tainted Village

An Innocent Soul in a Tainted Village

Smoke is coiling round my form,

Desperate to drink my soul before dawn.

Flames are caressing my tender skin,

The pain of a falsely accused sin.

Around me stand those who dared call themselves “friend,”

While they hope in the next life hell’s garden I tend.

They stand and stare with blank cold eyes,

As the Reverend spouts more accusatory lies.

My blood is seeping onto the binding rope,

And I begin to murmur a prayer, for hope.

But my wooden guardian holds me so,

And refuses to ever let me go.

Children too, are gathered around,

Frightened enough not to make a sound.

My eyes fill with contempt when I see the little miss,

Who is responsible for all of this.

I appeared to her in dreams apparently,

Which was certainly news to me.

My apparition tormented her frightfully she claimed,

And of course this was evidence to give me blame.

Her eyes are wide in uncontained fear,

What did you think would happen my dear?

What do you think happened to all the others?

That the adults had sent them home to father and mother?

My body is growing weary,

And my eyes are getting teary.

The Reverend yells “Now is the time to beg forgiveness witch!”

I raise my head and make one last laugh. Coming from them, that’s rich.