sparks are spilling
from your eyes
you sprinkle them
around,
ignite our hearts
in scorching waves,
we drown

can there be one
you'll save;
what fate awaits
survivors reaching shore;
they go to war
and time will tell
who burns out
and who
remains

(amongst the embers
a victor shall be named)

and even though
I never cease to burn
the last to stand
I see too late
the game is rigged
and charcoal hands
with ashes cold return