On a pedestal perches a penitent soul
In front of an imposing multitude of people
Scorning, mocking, ridiculing, shaming
An odious torture for one so contrite
The ignominy of the humiliation is enormous
To pose for derisive, motley hoards
Jeering, deriding, scoffing, insulting
A pain worse than death
Cries for mercy pour from the penitent soul
To the depraved crowds of sneering judges
Pleading, begging, imploring, hoping
An appeal no one should deem inconsequential
The drove of people snicker as the penitent soul breaks
Under the stress of the people
Sighing, weeping, drowning, dying
A horrid way to be forsaken
All held dear by the penitent soul is gone
Without hope or faith or love
Forsaken, abandoned, overwhelmed, ruined
A foreshadowing of death in the nearing future
The penitent soul is silent
Upon the scaffold of disgrace
Dead, cold, lifeless, inert
A corpse worth nothing
The people leave
Upon realizing the deceased
Finished, appeased, satisfied, pleased
A mob of corruption