I have tried in my way not to flee

Like the words of a liar
Like the  demons in a midnight sewer
We’ve  all tried ,in our way, not to be.
Like the girls  who despair
Like  wet wood in a midnight fire
We have tried many ways not to see
Like the twists of all  liars
Like a hank of midnights dire
We have tried and have failed to set free.
Like St Joan in the fire
Like an old lag in  a prison cure
I have tried, in my way, not to flee