The hunter was actually a saint

Saint that no one has ever seen

They twisted her tale

And made her the villain

She was helping the wounded

In return betrayed

Terrified of her power

And the chance to overpower

However she didn't take the chance

She took the plunge instead

She continued being kind

She was in her own mind

She didn't see the signs

That people were swines

She was caught

She was stolen

She was innocent

She lent them a helping hand

Yet they took everything from her

Stole everything from her

Her dignity, her pride, her virginity

Everything she handled for years

Their pitchforks, their judgement, their useless fear

She handled the tremors

Everything she dealt with..

Gone

Now everything was burnt

She was forced into the flames

It consumed her as she was consumed by anger

At her last breath she consumed the village in a raging fire

'•
a/n
umm.. idk how to dedicate so thank you so much lanaroj for the story cover/s and if anyone is confused why there's a number after the title it's because the poems are related.