I’ve cast it in the flames again

Without a moment’s thought

Watched it writhe and flinch about

Smelled the singed flesh

Once hanging off the bones of white

And fire licks them now

Coloring ash with a painter’s brush

As the screaming builds to pitch

Slowly growing silent, sacred

My sacrifice of self.

The wind is howling holy

Through the pediments of oak

The stars beyond the mist and cloud

To these my ashes climb.

To a god who hates me still,

To one I give my blood in love.

Mend resolve, repair the fracture

Lead me to believe

This sacrifice is worth the giving

And with a gift, it be received.