WITCH

        They've tied her up, she cannot run
    She burns beneath the dying sun

            Her soul too far, and far too late,
                 Now she is consumed by hate.

        Hate, the fire that licks at her legs.
           Hate, the torture she's endured for days.

                                  She cries out; there is no doubt.
                         Her life, like sand; runs through their black souled hands

        The sick'ing stench slinks through the crowd,
                    Choking them within its shroud.

                              Her skin crackles, cooked by heat.
                           Her heart cries out with every beat.

The scream that she will burn forever,
          never joining Elphaime's ethers

                                        The fire's high, reaching the sky.
                                       And so her screams begin to die.

As she fades into the Shades, they rejoice
       Never to hear her voice.

                                         Her name's forgotten, as are the others.
                               Lost forever to the sands of time.

                    She is remembered only as
                                           WITCH