Firewood is being laid
the bed for his punishment.
The sun is pale,
silently telling the true story.
Bruised wrists tied firm and tight,
now blue and cold.
Tears dripping down his face,
the laws said his love was not right.
Red gashes on his body,
appear through his torn robe.
He is dragged mercilessly,
and violently through the muddy shore.
Then laid down on his bed,
oddly silent, gazing up at the sky.
The wild flames are fired,
and I see the fright in his eye.
The chorus begins,
the crowds shout out loud,
'Down with the demon !'
while his screams seep into the ground.
His blood spurts to ash,
flames consuming his innocent soul.
God's creation is burning away,
and everyone is so cheerful.
The sky is unusually dark,
but today is not just another day.
His shivers are still shaking the ground,
while his ashes waft around in the air.
I should have stopped it,
I could have stopped this,
but I stood there amidst his shouts.
I am like him,
but he was brave,
and I was with the crowd.