Watching the fire burn in silence,

The light revealing scars of violence,

The bandaged man had survived his fight,

But lost everything that he thought was right.

Staring into the flames, remembering the lost,

Who were told to win at any cost.

The flames can’t chase this cold away,

Nor the sun on a summer day.

It’s a frost that grows in broken hearts,

Impossible to stop once it starts.

Staring into the inferno, he curses at the gods,

The crackling flames sounding like applause,

As he laughs and screams to be struck down.

The gods still don’t make a sound.

Nobody’s there to do the deed,

No one to care if your sacrifice bleeds.

The man sits alone, alone with the flame,

Wrapped in bandages and forgotten his name.

But he knows the cold and where the sun rises,

The cruelty of man and his guises.

Wrapped in bandages from the battle before,

Condemned by an oath that he had swore.

To abandon the warmth for a god not there,

Or at least a god that doesn’t care.

Sit in the fire and you’ll be home.

We live in a world the gods won’t roam.

Sit in the flame and you will see,

That you had always had the key.

With the bandages burned, the flesh is revealed.

Under the wraps, god was concealed.