'Salem Trials' Written By Milena Grubor

In Salem’s frost, faith-struck town,

Where night pressed close and weighed them down,

The whisper rose, half fear, half thrill,

That witches walked on Gallows Hill.

The minister’s pale child spoke

In frenzied gasp and fevered choke,

And from her trembling, haunted frame

The town drew terror, not her name.

A cry, a claim, a dream misheard,

Enough to damn without a word.

And so the righteous wrapped in night

Prepared their ropes, assured their right.

Over gallows beam the torches hissed,

The noose hung poised like death’s cold twist.

Nineteen were cast to ash and sky,

While one met stone, yet would not die.

His final breath, though crushed and torn,

Became a curse the wind had worn.

For in that strangled, iron cry

Lay all mankind’s dark alibi.

For Salem taught what fear can birth,

A world unmoored from solid earth,

A mind undone, a bruise of years,

That blooms anew in modern fears.

Thus, when the wind through winter trails,

Still ghostlike tread the Salem tales,

A mournful whisper, harsh and hollow:

“Condemn not what you cannot follow.”

Reviews

[carl]

this is an amazing write - so well blending the past errors with what is currently threatened - the cadence and rhyme is very masterful and the images clear and stark - well done - carl