A Pendle Witch

Based of the Pendle Witches from Lancaster's rich history - it develops from the last moment of a convicted young woman who would have been accused with the crime of witchcraft.

Silently waiting, Her head dropped low

Avoiding the hateful gazes and

vicious sneers. Like animals they were.

The shackles clamped, pinching pale skin,

As the clashing of wood and

creaking of rope echoed as

Another woman hung lifeless.

Calloused hands yanking her forward

To her fate, like the other unfortunate.

Who was dropped and discarded

Like waste on the streets left to rot.

As a Man of God read her ‘crimes’

Biting her tongue at his righteous words.

Where is God when she needs him so?

Was she disregarded his loving eye?

No need for praying, no need for tears,

She has no place in a Heavenly paradise.

The fibres wound tight, clinging to her neck as

Her heart beat violently inside her chest,

Taking her last breathe, Savouring

As heavy boots stomped behind, each step,

a countdown to her final moments left awake.

A creak, then a snap. She sung softly on the rack,

There was silence then there was cheer, for what?

Another young girl, she wept, as eyes all turned to her.

Author's Note

This was a minute poem, written under a task given by a lecturer of mine. It should be deemed as perfect - but at least viewed.