The Burning

An old poem from my young highschool days

 

The Burning

 

The Witch hunts of the seventeen hundreds

Created a frantic tornado whirling conflict,

Arguments, and quarrels ever higher.

 

A voice cried “Witch!”, and the trials began.

Some were intimidated,

And others saw opportunity for their evil works gleaming through the door.

 

Meanwhile those who peered through the lies

Struggled to reject the proposal of witch.

Which in turn caused them to be put to blame.

 

The fear for their safety had already influenced the righteous.

They had seen their friends ripped from their homes,

And placed in cells to await the gibbet.

 

Was it fear of the supernatural

That caused these judges to swiftly

Find the blame within any who resisted?

 

The smokes rose ever higher,

And dimmed the sun from the sky.

Hope faded from within the heart.

 

And suddenly the witch hunts stopped.

Maybe the people saw what they were doing and ended their actions.

Or maybe the frantic frenzy died down for that moment in time.

 

In either case, the burning had ended.

But the danger lived on.

For as long as we live, that danger will exist within our hearts.

 

But which question is that?.

I bid you ponder what I ask,

Is it fear that causes us to discriminate one another? Or vengeance?