The Saint

They tied me to the pyre
In my white dress
The yellow rose crown
Upon my silken tresses
He called out my name
and my crimes
None of which were true
And the blue eyed demon
Standing with his judgment scroll
Pulled forth the wailing babe
And held her up
As the executioner
Cut my heart from my chest
And the demon christened her
In mine own blood
And gave her mine own name
And called me saint