******OUR POETRY ARCHIVE******
AN ONLINE POETRY JOURNAL
TERMS & CONDITIONS (OPA)
OPA GOOGLE COMMUNITY
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
ANNE ASKEW - THE TORTURED WOMEN
The doomed hand of fate was felt
for this un-armoured saintly heart.
Of venial crimes she did commit.
Of God’s verity she depart
Under restless greying skies of dawn,
the act of six strings sown.
Enforcement by the King of right.
Rigid adherence to the throne
Of prodigal unyielding faith she cant,
to kings dislike and more
The fist of popish force was felt
And Towers hell she bore
Remorselessly tortured and vilified.
The rack her nightly bed.
Broken and stretched to no un-end
The Lord in vain unsaid
Hips and shoulders ripped from sockets,
elbows and knees askew,
but no amount of torture thrust
did this lady recant ensue
The bloody butchers knives at will,
to slaughter her body still more.
Depravity the nightly curse,
until she could no more endure
On a searing summers day on nigh,
was the high squalid scene.
Her broken body toted in arms,
and tied to bonfire reams
Asked to recant her unseemly sins,
she shook her head in scorn
and when the flames took a lick.
To God’s good will she born
Into the sky the flames curled high,
and shimmered to her broken chest
and finally without a sound
Anne Askew found peace in death
Share to Twitter
Share to Facebook
Share to Pinterest
No comments :
Post a Comment
Post Comments ( Atom )