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Hidden are the spells
And incantations that concede
For nightmarish cases to repeat
And apprentices to stay weak

Dishonoring all the victims of
Historic mass hysterias
Censoring terrifying chronicles
Shaped into entertaining operas

The Catholics, once upon a time -
allowed De Torquemada - a jew
To cheat, lie, pillage, extort and rape
And bear false witness with his crew

Against the poor and lonely people
Like the widow and the spinster
And even the outcast lesbian
From Salem to Westminster

Accused of sorcery and enchantment
And without funds for hired guards
No protection from this real-estate scam
The Inquisition - seldom probed by bards

“Your cottage stands in a favorable location, wench -
and is fit to become a tavern for my homebrew!”
Sayeth the scheming kike and his money-hungry pals
To the soon to be drowned or charred shrew

A campaign so easily managed
Through much gossip and fabricated lies
Swayed the townsfolk to be against her
And onto their devilish side

Well of course, they took turns and fucked her
And tossed her exhausted body to the dirt
Leaving her justifiably embittered
And ready to blaspheme and curse

In her disorderly state she could not sway
And neighbors now pushed her away
With the piss in her hair and the tears in her eyes
All efforts for finding help proved vain

They sure as hell won’t believe you now
As the lies have thoroughly taken root
And future generations, hidden from the truth
Will only celebrate this, to boot!