Torn Satin Wings

The crimson pool engulfs her body
she lays there, not moving
her torn wings are illuminating
bright as deaths face

the willow tree bending steeply over
almost touching the crimson river
the leaves brush her cheek
her lips lightly quiver

the ropes dug deep into her wrists
deep welts bleeding profusely
they called her the witches child
said she was God's greatest sin

draped by her side, torn satin wings
the ones that bound her to life
piercing through her skin
overtaking her body, death's darkened eyes

laying motionless, her body cold
shreds of satin blowing through the sky
shattered like crystal glass
her face stained with red tears she cried