Art and the philosophy of life

Witch, a poem

Fire, Flames, Bonfire, Burning, Border

they asked her what she wanted
before they lit the match
she said she wanted
to be free to live her life
to help others
to have a garden
and some tea
at the end of the day
they laughed
and called her witch
and the ropes that bound her
bit into her wrists
and legs
but she looked them in the eye
and said
you can burn me
but you can never
kill the witch in all women
for the magic in us is too strong
even for your hatred
and evil ways
and what you do to us
may it come back to you
ten times over
for never ending generations
of males in you line
and may you suffer
and feel the pain
you spread throughout the world
because of your fear
violence
and selfishness
and the lit match
flew through the air
and the twigs caught
as the woman started
singing
and MOTHER Nature
enfolded her in feathered wings
and leafy branches
and held her gently
whispering softly
they will pay for what they do
and the woman smiled
as the MOTHER
took her home

Comments on: "Witch, a poem" (2)

  1. Your poem struck a chord with me because our dance group has just performed a show (for the fourth and last time, whew) called The Witches’ Project. A pivotal part of the show was “Witches”, a poem by Fleassy Malay. Easy to find online: I think you’ll enjoy this one.

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