Burning Witch

Why are you burning, burning like a bitch.

Why are you not bleeding, bleeding dying witch.

A vicious evil hag of puss-ing warts of green.

A face 700 years old, no one craves for to see.

Evil green slashing eyes that glisten.

A vile and  horrid sunken stare.

Frightened onlookers cover their ears as not to listen.

She curls the air screeching wails that feels she has to share.       .

A bonfire is left lighted to take its grotesque course.

A responsibility that the judge and the parishioners put in force.

To send an un repentant soul on its journey to a fiery hell.

Crisp and burning fumes, fills the air with an acrid smell.

Go to hell with your cackle and your devil sounding groan.

Don’t expect a sympathetic hearing  to the wails that you badly moan.

Your cowl burns aglow as it warms those fools that are cold.

You draw them to the fire the weak the lame the old.

To eternity you must remain banished in the flames.

And no longer be allowed to play your sickened sorcery games.

For we now know the plagues and who has to bear the shame.

The folk of the villages you tricked, scarred, and crazily maimed.

God help your soul at the day of judgement when it him who will decide.

As the air is filled with the stench of the disgusting smell of bromide.

One hand he holds forgiveness the other a terror spell.

And he will cast your ashes to, the deepest part of hell.

So repent whilst you have the opportunity for there isn’t long to go.

And do your damndist with you evil for it is thee end of the show.

Die you old witch and take yer sorcery with you.

And we sit and celebrate your passing not caring where you go.