And she ran Hoping that her crime May be forgotten But by the time she made it home Her twisted grin was rotten They tied her up, skin against stake They lit up the flames They watched her scream and shake They had forgotten that it was all a game
This reminded me of The Crucible and the Salem Witch Trials, especially with the fire and stake. This is pretty powerful image-oriented poem. "Her twisted grin was rotten" is a great line, something I can really visualize in my head. Good write!