My Name Is Metaphor
By M Teresa Clayton
Music by Piratas Lawrence Francis O'Donnell
Beneath the murky water lies
Proof of innocence misused.
Silenced beneath the hallowed veil,
Embodied cries of those accused.
WITCH ! proclaimed the righteous ones,
Oh, how the words do linger.
No other cause to curse her with
But on their pointed finger !
Aside her waist they bound her wrists
And bound her foot and knee.
They muffled her and blinded her,
Truth could not speak nor see.
They issued judgment on the shore
Then bowed their heads in prayer.
They tossed her into the icy depths
Awaiting justice there.
WITCH ! proclaimed the righteous ones,
Oh, how the words do linger.
No other cause to curse her with
But on their pointed finger !
Should the witch survive the test
And surface with her breath,
Surely saved by Satan’s hand
Would be condemned to death.
Bound again upon the stake,
Put ablaze upon the pyre,
Her scream was quickly muffled
And consumed within the fire.
WITCH ! proclaimed the righteous ones,
Oh, how the words do linger.
No other cause to curse her with
But on their pointed finger !
But had she surfaced the water’s break
And never registered her complaint,
She would sink into the water’s depths
Judged, not a witch, but saint.
This story has no purpose
But to stifle the pointed finger.
The voices of those gone “unaccused”
Oh, how their voices linger.
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