The Smoke Of Many Fires

The river had brought with it much that day
From driftwood to blood from the ember
Some things were hidden while others were seen
Yet the man somehow could not remember

Having ambled away from the water's banks to return to his tribe and their lights
He soon found a failing of flesh, and of mind they were no longer robust or bright
What he could not have seen was the sickness upstream
Those abandoned remains of the wasted

What he could not have known
Was the blight of the bone
In each ebb and each flow he had tasted

Dawn found him ailing delirium rife
Those he loved feared his illness would wander
With time wearing thin, his young eyes clouded in
As the odour of smoke became stronger

It was then that he heard the sharp crackle of torches
Carried past him by men from his clan
A panic cut through all the life that he knew
It was over before it began

Rope looped his wrists
And held tight to his veins
As beside him
His relatives sagged

And with tears in their eyes
Through confusion and cries
Out towards the wild flames he was dragged

Like billions before him regardless of form
It ended as chance had decided
So briefly contained an inferno's refrain
Having powered and angered and guided

At the heart of the blaze awareness dissolved
Light ascended devoid of desire
From a trail intertwined life and death strewn behind
To the stars it returned from the fire