A Fractured Chorus Poem by Ezio Olubelleau

'Witchcraft! "
A madman cries.
The wise men gather,
Their voices weave riddles—
Of numbers and code, they ask:
'Where hides the witch? '

A priest,
Armed with a writ,
Murmurs psalm-like spells.
'Leave me be, ' his eyes misread—
Yet his flames rise higher.

The mob,
With axes gripped tight,
Seized a market woman.
Her cries were swallowed
By the roar of justice—
Or something far from just.

An artist,
With brush and canvas,
Captured the chaos, line by line.
Sipping coffee,
He spilled his cup
And stained the wall.

'Save us! '
The madman begged,
But no one turned.
'You're all mad, ' He muttered again.
This time, silence followed.