They say I did something bad, that I was the monster of their time.

They scream my heart was wicked.

And my mere existance was a crime. 

This is the power of men.

When they can't comprehend, how you stand strong and proud. 

And for that your life has to end. 

They hunt me down with pitchforks for curing them of their pain. 

I hear the dogs and horses, as I dance in the rain. 

Oh, how they fear me.

How amusing it is to hear them shout;

That I was Lucifer unleashed free, that I was responsible. 

Yes, they had no doubt. 

Their screams ricochet, when their ropes tie me to the pole.

I laugh, with my hair as red as their torches. Everyone has to play their role 

They are afraid of the power I might wield, so they do what they can do best. 

But my lips will stay sealed. 

I will not spoil the rest. 

And I remember it all too well, how the flames ignite. 

Engulfing me in their heat, as I race towards the light. 

They're burning all the witches, even if you aren't one. 

They are the real monsters. 

So you better run. 

This week on Lia tries poetry and fails miserably  

@TheBlaisse 

Idk, kinda a medival poem thinggie...maybe???