The Shroud of Fire

Like a melody, you are.

Encasing me in your delicate dance.

The more you are, the less I am.

Fire that put me in a trance.

You covered palaces in flames,

you melted crowns.

You always wished you’d burn,

like moths and girls in white gowns.

The square, the crowd, the stake.

Our souls are not solid and yet they break.

You screamed into the pain and burned out

as you were inside the pyre’s shroud.

You worshipped life, you were devout.

Burning within, burning without.