The Martyring Of A Murderer Poem by ed purchla

Overshadowed
By the madness
Of Salem's ruthless infamy.

'Twas the culprit
Then acquitted
The same who first accused his wife.

Having beaten
A man for the
Theft of fruit from his brother's farm.

One hundred times
The stick did swing
Bludgeoning the indentured 'scourge.'

Providence shown
On Robert's son,
Elisha beheld the horror.

Exhorting this
Janus to stop,
Or suffer thy deserving blood.

Though the beating
Stopped, the damaged
Victim untreated, died in vain.

Lo, the jury,
Bound to the law
Of the time, made no conviction.

As the killer
Was a master,
Another Bacon need be quashed.

We all know the
Tale wherein he
Became a folk hero: 'more weight! '

Howbeit, this
Same martyr
Did nothing to save his own wife.

Choosing instead
His property,
No more bitter a truth could be.

Refusing to plea
He earned his peine
Forte et dure, and justice arrived.

One wonders if
He saw the 'scourge'
As the breath was wrung from his chest.

Such icons paint
Our history,
Clasping bloody hands behind them.

And though seen in
A light of hope
And awe, they deserve not one spark.