[RunAmokRampant]

Hated Helen

She is the accursed but accepts her fate,
who keeps her on the rusted swing.
Back and forth she does not stop,
with that screeching the swaying submits,
that bleeds into my covered ears.
I am forced run away from the one strickened,
to the pendulum where she watches...
Waiting patiently

I wanted walk over to see her up close,
but my fear was sewn closer and tighter still

She knows what's going to happen.
Like the distinct smell before rain.
She can already sense the protruding guilt,
of the ones carrying the flames,
who are beguiled by misguided white collars.

As the swing follows itself in dead monotony,
eighteen years of grace will be a sunset.
Men hide behind other men with sweat on their brows,
while the other points the finger,
spitting the name of her stigma.

All the while I spent watching,
What I perceived I had lost,
my most precious childhood gift

Ten minutes later they had left her.
The lynch mob mentality thrives on fear,
with no ground or reason to aspire,
the vicious offer of death.
I still watch her swaying,
but the swing had stopped and the screeching,
echoed the now present silence.