They tied her to the stake.
She begged the crowd with her eyes
and grunted,
her voice ruined from all her screams.
She was not a witch!
Though they dressed her to look like one,
it was they who were the wicked ones,
reveling in her agony!
They found it eerie
that she did not struggle as she went alight.
She was not a witch when they sentenced her,
nor when they accused her,
nor when they suspected her.
But the fire ignited a rage inside her
they couldn’t extinguish.
Her body went to dust.
Her curse still burns.