Thank-you for killing me.

With picthforks and torches,
they came.
To burn the witch,
That was allready dead.
She died of the empytness
that killed her heart,
inside-out.
But still,
she remained trapped here,
bound to earth.
By a force that wanted her to suffer.
They came,
only ten,
her closest friends.
That couldn't continue
to listen to her
silent shriek,
for another second.