The Burning Times

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The winds blow cold as darkness falls on Salem

The old fortress still visible in the night

Blood red skies bathe the moon in crimson

As the air grows thick with negative light

 

The screams of many can be heard here often

As horrific torture is relived in the cold

Relentless persecution of the innocent ones

Brought on by fears of stories they were told

 

False trials held with no intent to find justice

Prosecution at any cost the final decision

Penalty of death a high price for witchcraft

Thousands of lives ended with evil precision

 

Women of covens brought swiftly to justice

With the use of fire, water, axe, and rope

The truth of the witch brings supernatural life

While restoring the purity of newly found hope

 

Age old times of these burnings at the stake

Bringing shame upon the ones holding power

For revenge shall be sought from here ever after

As the Almighty hand of God strikes the hour

 

White light of the witch turned dark by the fearful

Once pure intentions are now turned malevolent

What was once true beauty of nature misunderstood

Now becomes Evil incarnate strong and prevalent

 

When the night bathes the moon in a crimson hue

Find yourself far away from the site of the burnings

For the sinister things that the wicked undertake

Are retaliations of the murdered innocent returning