Burn Witch

memories of a past life Witch burning.

Burn Witch

 

 

I wake from a troubled slumber, a feeling of precariousness about me

The vagueness and uncertainty quickly escalate to mortal fear

Unable to center my scattered thoughts, I lie confused.

Softy a gentle voice whispers “Run!  The searchers are here”.

 

I cannot escape the vertigo created by the strangeness of this place

Captivated by my bewilderment, I cannot flee.

Why am I sleeping in this hovel?

This dainty girl cannot be me.

 

Softly I touch my firm young breast,

Thrill to a pleasant but unfamiliar itch.

My new found sensual awareness dissolves

I am forced back to reality as I hear “Grab that B***h”!

 

Surrounded by their filthy bodies, I gag at their putrid breath.

My nakedness betrays me as cruel, rough hands grab and clutch.

Brute arms encircle me, air is crushed from my lungs

Dizzy and confused, what have I done to be hated this much?

 

Angry because all the others have escaped, they make me object of their abuse.

Vainly I fight to cover my nakedness, to protect my womanhood

But darkness is beginning to creep into my consciousness.

My efforts though valiant, are futile and serve no good.

 

Methodically they prepare me for what is yet to come

The blows to my body are aimed to cripple but not mutilate

Liver and kidneys can be destroyed without diminishing my allure.

My beauty must be preserved for the inquisitors to violate.

 

Sweet, gentle darkness replaces my consciousness

Trepidation and pain fade as I slip into non-existence.

Cataclysm quashes tranquillity and perpetuates despair

As the darkness begins to devour my resistance.

 

Time is nonexistent here, only the vast expanse of darkness.

The light of the torture den is only remembered as pain.

Untold eternity’s of dark silence are broken

By horrendous screams that make the torn tissue of my body strain.

  

The darkness feeds upon the ability to rationalize,

Stability is lost and my mind borders on insane

Yet, the unending torture of darkness is mild

Compared to the feel of terror, a flicker of light sends to my brain.

 

The first time I was taken from the darkness, dazed and confused

I was bound securely, fondled and violated by the honorable judges,

 As the laughed and denigrated me and all women.

By the end of this torture I was being sodomized by the dirtiest drudges.

 

During this brief time of torture by violation, I was subjected

To depravity that only a loving Christian mind could devise.

Before my abused body became desensitized to humiliation

Many vile objects were introduced to the orifices between my thighs.

 

My frail naked body hangs suspended horizontally in the air

Battered face and contused breasts pointed to the floor

Brain distorted by the constant apprehension

Of falling uncontrolled and colliding with stone once more.

 

I have lost all reasoning since I became too gross for sexual abuse

turning into an object to be battered and torn apart.

My teeth are all gone, knocked, kicked or pulled from my battered mouth

And tearing out my finger nails was just a way to start.

 

Almost every bone in my body is broken

My face purple and green from beatings, my hair hangs in scattered strands

As now after being roughly groomed

I am being dressed by repugnant men with cruel hands.

 

Powders and rouges are employed to diminish my feminine dignity

A harlot’s gown is draped over my naked skin.

I am paraded to the village square

Where for amusement of the crowd I will atone for my sin.

 

The judges step before the crowd adorned in their holy robes.

“Before you stands a vile creature that wore beauty as a mark of pride.

She sold her soul to obtain that glamour and guise

Becoming the Devil’s bride”.

 

“Does she appear so beautiful and proud now?

Standing here betrayed by Satan, left all alone

To be cleansed of her sins by holy fire

The deceptions of her witchcraft all gone”.

  

“She is getting more than she deserves

We will allow her the final chance to repent her mortal sin

To abandon the pagan w***e goddess

And our loving God will forgive her trysts and welcome her as his kin”.

 

The executioner whispers in my ear

“Confess your sins, denounce the false gods that lead you astray.

Drop to your knees before the honorable Judges,

Call out to the almighty Father in Heaven and pray”.

 

”I will snap your pretty little neck and let you die quickly and quietly

The fire will burn away an empty shell.

But if you refuse, you will perish in the flames

Your mouth will still be screaming when your soul enters hell”.

 

“Those filthy peasants crowding around the stake

Will dance and celebrate your pain.

They will cheer each time your cries fill the air.

Why die a horrible death, that scum to entertain”?

 

I close my eyes and look upon my Goddess’s face

And with every scrap of courage I can call

“No thank you”, I calmly and proudly reply.

As he puts the torch to the pyre I lift my head and stand tall.

 

As the flames caress my bare feet and dance about my legs

I can feel the moisture being drawn from my flesh.

Large blisters rapidly appear and just as quickly burn away,

Horrible little hissing sounds fill the air as fire and water mesh.

 

The fire quickly melts the strange fabric

Of my gaudy bridal gown.

The molten liquid adheres to my naked flesh.

Writhing in unbearable pain my resistance to scream is torn down.

 

The putrid stench of burning flesh

Intermingled with the aroma of roasting meat

Overwhelms my senses

And I stare down at my feet.

 

I look upon the mottled surface of my legs

Here blisters appear, there the flesh has burned away.

I open my spirit and my throat

And release the horrible scream as my body begins to sway.

 

 

“Bridgit, Sweet Mother I am coming home”

I call loudly above the crowd.

“Morrigan make them pay for this brutality

Send your ravens, make their screams long and loud”.

 

“Burn Witch, burn”, fills my ears as I lift above the brutal pyre

To embrace a beautiful Lady gowned in blue.

Though the body below writhes and screams

Sweet Bridgit whispers “Forget that my Child your suffering is through”.

 

“You have faced the cruelty of Christians and their jealous god

By mastering their terrible pyre.

You have come away stronger than before,

Never again will you fear the power of fire”.

 

As we float here above the morbid scene

The peasants honor me, my defiance revered.

Their somber reverence accompanied me to my Lady’s arms

As the nobles and gentry danced and cheered.

 

 angel

© july 1997