I stand before you
accused by some fool.
You call me a witch,
but I say you are foolish to agree.
I but a simple girl
I mean harm to no one.
You demand I confess to my sins of witchcraft
I'm firm when I look you the eye and tell you,
“ I cannot”.
I go three days and three nights
with only water and some stale bread
in the damp dark of the jail.
I almost fear my hunger has made me mad
when I see your face appear at my cell.
Though am weak,
I rise to greet your scornful face.
Again, you demand I confess.
You wish to make an example of me.
Yet again I look  you in the eye and reply;
“ I  cannot."
You storm out in anger raving about how I shall hang,
but I will not be tried for something I did not do.
I will not ruin my name for the games of the fool.
I stand at the gallows and you demand one last time my confession
A single tear rolls down my face as I look to the crowd gathered to see my end.
Standing tall, I whisper
“I cannot.”
s.s.

I can hear the voices calling me to the gallows, and so speaks my soul.
Softly whispering my darkest secrets
for anyone listening close enough to hear.
Everything I've wanted to keep hidden from everyone, out in the open, hot summers air.
I hear the executioner walking as I wait to take my last breath and fall through the floor.
He reaches the platform, asks me to speak my final words.
Again I find words coming out of my mouth I'm not consciously speaking, everyone falls silent,
he pulls the lever, the floor drops, and my neck snaps.
I wake up from my disillusion only to find myself back where I started.
Searching.
Trapped in my head searching for an escape that is seemingly impossible to find.
No one can save me from this, surrounded by the demons that haunt my thoughts.
I have to overcome them, I have to overcome this.
I won't let them consume me.
I can only save myself.
It's time to remove this hollow mask, shed the shell of who I was and become who I know I need to be.
I've been searching for a savior for far too long,
I am what I've been searching for all this time.
I've been a slave to my demons, letting my conscious existence blur.
I'm taking back control,
until history repeats itself once more.

Gallows humor
is far better
than no humor at all

He didn't even fight
Walking with his head straight up
As if not even afraid
Of the grim end awaiting him
By the end of a rope

The executioner offered his hand
To help him get up on the gallows
He agreed on the help of his killer
And directed to him his final words:

"Here, in my final sunset
I thank thee for helping
Don't worry about the rest
I'll go down myself"

How many faces you wish?
For you are not true to your own
Can you bear the burden of many?
Posing as everyone, but you
Even the mirror will be flummoxed
Ashamed to show the real you
Maybe a face forgotten long ago
Waging a war against yourself
An army of many faces adopted
Will bring you to the gallows
That will be the end to your identity
When you will be unmasked