Old Maid

They​ ​called​ ​her​ ​evil
Hung​ ​her​ ​from​ ​a​ ​tree
Mistook​ ​her​ ​medicine
For​ ​wicked​ ​sorcery

Wiley​ ​old​ ​woman
With​ ​no​ ​family​ ​of​ ​her​ ​own
To​ ​Hell​ ​with​ ​Christians
May​ ​they​ ​reap​ ​what​ ​they​ ​have​ ​sown

For​ ​weeks​ ​her​ ​captors​ ​held​ ​her
In​ ​a​ ​dungeon​ ​dark​ ​and​ ​damp
Her​ ​body​ ​broken
Thumbs​ ​pulverized​ ​by​ ​clamps

Yet​ ​her​ ​mind​ ​was​ ​strong
For​ ​no​ ​wrong​ ​had​ ​she​ ​done
She​ ​feared​ ​not​ ​life​ ​or​ ​death
Her​ ​purpose​ ​became​ ​one:

Reject​ ​the​ ​teachings​ ​of​ ​a​ ​greedy​ ​perverse​ ​church
Spreading​ ​subordinance​ ​and​ ​lies​ ​of​ ​virgin​ ​birth
She'd​ ​taught​ ​the​ ​secrets​ ​of​ ​the​ ​forests,​ ​seas​ ​and​ ​skies
The​ ​cycles​ ​of​ ​the​ ​moon
And​ ​all​ ​the​ ​earth​ ​provides

Captured​ ​when​ ​her​ ​heathen​ ​home​ ​was​ ​raided
Turned​ ​in​ ​by​ ​the​ ​villagers​ ​she'd​ ​aided
And​ ​when​ ​they​ ​took​ ​her
To​ ​the​ ​oak​ ​tree​ ​where​ ​she'd​ ​hang
She​ ​raised​ ​her​ ​bloodied​ ​head
In​ ​crystal​ ​voice​ ​she​ ​sang

"Dīs​ ​Pater,​ ​Spirits​ ​of​ ​the​ ​dead
I​ ​fear​ ​not​ ​what​ ​awaits
For​ ​just’s​ ​the​ ​life​ ​I’ve​ ​lead
May​ ​your​ ​guilt
Live​ ​deep​ ​within​ ​your​ ​blood
May​ ​stress​ ​and​ ​cancers​ ​blossom
As​ ​a​ ​flower​ ​buds!"

Now​ ​we​ ​wonder​ ​where​ ​the​ ​worlds​ ​magic​ ​has​ ​gone
We​ ​search​ ​the​ ​continents​ ​for​ ​some​ ​truth​ ​to​ ​hang​ ​on
But​ ​I​ ​know​ ​we've​ ​lost​ ​much​ ​knowledge​ ​once​ ​possessed
Burned,​ ​broken,​ ​hung
By​ ​Christ​ ​our​ ​Lord​ ​suppressed
Burned,​ ​broken,​ ​hung
Let​ ​Jesus'​ ​will​ ​be​ ​done