Howls of horror stuck in her throat,
slit and devoured, e're the sound rose to
slither, writher, upon scarlet stained logs.
Screetchy, silent screams oozed down the street
to rise, possess minds, senselessly sleeping.
"Bind me, burn me," the witch cackled on.
Cursed, her birthright, and wicked the shrew
but was she touched, evil?
The truth, no one knew.
Howls of horror, loosed in the crowd,
caused panic and began a human stampede.
An avalance of people were trod
upon, crushed, in their hurry to run.
Was Salem's lot a gaggle of witches
or imaginations that had run wild?
Could their power corrupt the innocent
and were they touched, evil?
The truth . . . no one knew.
Still they tortured the suspects, gave them their due.
Who were the evil ones?
The truth . . . no one knew.
The whys of history are important. We have many theories on the sad time you have written about. But I am here to comment on your poem. I loved the way you took a period of shame in our history and wrote a vivid description, making the terror come to life for us today. And you gave us all some food for thought. Great job.
one idea is that the people of Salem, were all experiencing an hallucinogenic state from eating moldy rye seeds which is the chemical propery of lsd...
*tears* sad, heartbreaking write about a terrible time in history...when fear ran rampant...and innocent women and children were put to death...thank you for sharing...(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :(
Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)
Reviewed on February 28, 2003
This is good. I love to read the macabe.
Sad time in history though. Chalk the mess up to the puritanical religious mind set of the time. A devil to be found in every tea cup. It always amazes me as to how Christians, supposedly walking in the light of God, can see so damn many devils. Boggles my mind.
Pray for the light. Pray that you last that long. The Long Hour Before Light is a classic collection of Horror tales, re-mastered by Champagne Book Group
Chris has been fostered at the Crowley boot camp since he turned seven. At sixteen, he is finally ready to run away because his foster father is an abusive person who works Chris and the other children to the point of exhaustion. All he has left of h
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The whys of history are important. We have many theories on the sad time you have written about. But I am here to comment on your poem. I loved the way you took a period of shame in our history and wrote a vivid description, making the terror come to life for us today. And you gave us all some food for thought. Great job.
Sherry
Sad time in history though. Chalk the mess up to the puritanical religious mind set of the time. A devil to be found in every tea cup. It always amazes me as to how Christians, supposedly walking in the light of God, can see so damn many devils. Boggles my mind.
~E
William