NaPoWriMo 2: Bloody Tower

Singing rings from the tower,

That bloody tower of London.

She sings alone in a cell,

Imprisoned for a fraudulent crime.

Family left in Scotland north,

Her companions are the vermin.

Hauntingly chilled and deathly pale,

Her will to survive dwindles.

The flame is out,

Her hair is matted.

They come to lead her down,

Down to where only a certain death crouches.

Whether it's beheading or hanging,

She refuses to show fear.

And she follows close behind them,

Marching away from the tower.