crowds of mongers were
peddling rage and theories
as amelia was led up the stairs,
the hangman waiting to
take in her last.

spurs tinkled faintly
the creak of a leather belt,
sharp eyes peered out over
the faces of those that
would eat her alive.

“any last words” was the
jeer from her jailer, but
amelia spat at his feet
and the crowds called for
blood;

a twist and jerk secured
her neck at a jaunty angle,
but it was the jailer who
screamed for mercy –

blood-lust turned to
bloody horror, and amelia
slid her noose off while
the man behind her choked
on his own words.

“witch!” was the cry, and
she touched a finger to
her lips –

“careful what you scream for”