I sat there, for ages it seemed
waiting for my punishment to end,
to be redeemed.

My torturer is only doing the job
she was given. She tries to send
forgiveness to the angry mob.
In heart a word has risen.

You may leave this wooden prison
if you promise you'll never sob
again when your king hits
his queen or when she is abused.

But I refused.
Now here I sits.