To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
Salem 1692 Winds whistle through hollow woods in a sleepy New England village. Screams echo in icy drafts, desperate voices of innocense muted in mid-breath... Seeds were sown in fertile soil of political pandering. Adolescent angst and the ravages of an obscure virus became "Satan's playground". Ignorance fueled flames of fear fanning a wildfire of hysteria. Innuendo and circumstance, superstition and the superficial, the unknown and the unexplained, exhibited as evidence in a Puritan court. "...if it be His blessed will that innocent blood be not shed..." Mary Easty pleaded for mercy in vain. Rebecca Nurse,70, judged innocent once, felt the tightening of the noose. She was proclaimed guilty of "sundry acts of witchcraft". Her limp body fell in the gallows, buried in a shallow grave alongside the mortal remains of 18 others. Names etched in cold stone are an eternal reminder of the fallibility of humankind dressed in the cloak of righteousness. |
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!