Whilst The Witch Pleads

Why am I running?

They don't even know I'm a witch.

I cast a protection spell over myself,

I must have gotten them all mixed.

If they find me they'll burn me for sure;

tie to me a wooden contraption;

burn me til I'm within a fraction

of an inch left of me.

How could they have not mistaken my identity

for someone who is less inconspicous

as I

tried to be.

I'll hide in the forest.

There they cannot bind me,

to a life of burn marks and misery.

They're taking me away now.

They found me.

My wrists are bound behind my back,

my ankles tied to the post.

These monsters are beginning their rituals.

These men that don't have a clue;

that witches don't burn;

we stew and we brew.....