The Execution of Lady Jane Grey
Amy Strachan
The picture of grace and innocence.
They peel off my skin, the last remnants of my life.
A life of luxury. Taken as fast as the swing of an axe.
Some call this justice.
White dress stained a merciless red.
They take my life. They take my eyes.
The queen for nine days. Trapped.
Forever seventeen. I take a tentative breath.
He whispers kindly in my ear. His voice breaking.
The kindness reminds me of my mother.
I can hear her voice now, calling me home.
Home.
I feel her soft comforting hands guide me,
pulling me down into the cold damp earth.
The same Earth which spit me out
Into the cold, cruel arms of my father,
who wanted not for a daughter.
Tears pour down, for a lady fair,
I sink to my knees
like a child in prayer.
The silence around me pierces my ears.
Left now, with only the sound of my erratic heart,
Thumping in my ears.
All faith is a shield,
from the cold uncertainty that is death.
Guildford goes to the grave
and takes with him my heart.
We ruled together,
Now we have been torn apart.
I think to myself,
How did I get here?
I feel my hands start to shake,
Then all my thoughts disappear.
I grasp the block below me, then begin to pray.
The eye of Gabriel, weeps for me -
as my life slips away.