Condemned by ignorant peers she stands solemn as the bonds are secured. Her
chapped hands tied above her weary head she stands, stiff against the hard
wooden trunk digging into her back.
The judge turns to face his tear stained captive, cheeks red with acceptance and grace as the fire danced with remorse in the pools of her tired eyes. Her cold deadened feet warmed at the closeness of the torch. An executioner stands at her right, the torch eating and battling at the air, snuffing out the last sparkle of hope of a life ripped away by a condemning Church.
How many more women would face the future of black smoke clouding a tarnished, unlucky vision?
She had been skinned from her toes to her heels, the "devil taken from her stride", half drowned in holy water, both arms dislocated, and all knuckles separated from palms yet still the passion for life burned in her heart just as strongly as the torch about to crumble her once lively porcelain skin from her burnt bones.
The executioner smiled and tossed the burning stick into the dry hay at her feet. It was as if all the blood in her body stopped flowing at that moment in time when she knew, even if by some odd chance they decided she was not a witch that it'd be impossible to be saved from the flaming human torch fate she was soon become.
The heat rose, scalding the bare veins in her feet, if they could still be called that. Flames licked at her bleeding tendons where the hell of her foot should have been.
Not a word was muttered by the damned "witch" of Salem as the flames consumed her flesh. The only evidence of her suffering spilled down her cheeks in salty streams as the red heat jumped to her hips turning the thin linen around her torso to ashes. With her dislocated arms and shriveling legs, standing seemed to be the last thing she would ever do.
Nothing was worse as the skin fell away from muscle, muscle from bone, bone from woman. A rancid smell of dying innocence reached the laughing onlookers, silencing them as a woman died before them, consumed by a heat hotter than a lover's passion, a pain as horrible as being nailed to a cross.
The impact of her steady rush of tears stunned them into a guilty stupor. Would their God really allow such a thing?
Before her condemners died a woman of complete innocence, her flesh blackened by the lick of an executioner's hunger for the cry of a woman.
A/N: hey yall..the really weird thing is that I was in a really happy mood when I wrote this lol, but anyway..please tell me what you think..hope I wasn't too gruesome =/
Drop a review perdy please =) hugz n cupcakes-wendy
The judge turns to face his tear stained captive, cheeks red with acceptance and grace as the fire danced with remorse in the pools of her tired eyes. Her cold deadened feet warmed at the closeness of the torch. An executioner stands at her right, the torch eating and battling at the air, snuffing out the last sparkle of hope of a life ripped away by a condemning Church.
How many more women would face the future of black smoke clouding a tarnished, unlucky vision?
She had been skinned from her toes to her heels, the "devil taken from her stride", half drowned in holy water, both arms dislocated, and all knuckles separated from palms yet still the passion for life burned in her heart just as strongly as the torch about to crumble her once lively porcelain skin from her burnt bones.
The executioner smiled and tossed the burning stick into the dry hay at her feet. It was as if all the blood in her body stopped flowing at that moment in time when she knew, even if by some odd chance they decided she was not a witch that it'd be impossible to be saved from the flaming human torch fate she was soon become.
The heat rose, scalding the bare veins in her feet, if they could still be called that. Flames licked at her bleeding tendons where the hell of her foot should have been.
Not a word was muttered by the damned "witch" of Salem as the flames consumed her flesh. The only evidence of her suffering spilled down her cheeks in salty streams as the red heat jumped to her hips turning the thin linen around her torso to ashes. With her dislocated arms and shriveling legs, standing seemed to be the last thing she would ever do.
Nothing was worse as the skin fell away from muscle, muscle from bone, bone from woman. A rancid smell of dying innocence reached the laughing onlookers, silencing them as a woman died before them, consumed by a heat hotter than a lover's passion, a pain as horrible as being nailed to a cross.
The impact of her steady rush of tears stunned them into a guilty stupor. Would their God really allow such a thing?
Before her condemners died a woman of complete innocence, her flesh blackened by the lick of an executioner's hunger for the cry of a woman.
A/N: hey yall..the really weird thing is that I was in a really happy mood when I wrote this lol, but anyway..please tell me what you think..hope I wasn't too gruesome =/
Drop a review perdy please =) hugz n cupcakes-wendy